


Canvas

by fujoshism (fancypineapple)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancypineapple/pseuds/fujoshism
Summary: [Originally posted on January 30, 2014]Sehun is a perfect white canvas, a surface for other people to paint over. Slowly, but surely, her blank surface starts to peel off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the ohunlimited exchange we had back in... idk 2013 i think. it has some passing mentions of internalized homophobia btw, in case that makes you uncomfy.

Being a model isn’t about being skinny.

Not exclusively, at least. It’s about being tall, too, of course. Lean and elegant.

And more than just lean, or chic, or even pretty – it’s about being perfectly pliant. Shapeless, vague, carefully blank. Being a model is being a white canvas, over which people can paint, draw, project, imprint – and then erase it all and start over from nothing, with not a smudge of anything else left to be seen.

When the casting agent told Sehun, all those years ago, that she was perfect for modeling, she had been boundlessly happy. Nowadays, when admiring her own figure in the mirror, she wonders if she should’ve been offended instead. After all, being a model is being bland – void of any personal colors that might interfere in the artist’s work. Maybe she should’ve refused the agent’s attention then. Who knows what path she’d have followed instead…

Regardless, now is now, and Oh Sehun is a rising star. It’s been three years since she signed the contract with her agency, and barely one year since she exploded all over the magazines and TV commercials, and she’s been doing nothing but work, work, and work. Photoshoots, runways, numerous endorsements, even a TV drama – she’s doing it all, and all at once.

“Give me sweetness! Smile more! Sunshine and summer!” One photographer instructs.

“Power! Fierceness! Challenge the camera!” Another one insists.

But all of them agree on one thing.

“You’re gorgeous!”

“Beautiful!”

“Perfect!”

“Flawless!”

For a model, that’s more than enough.

 

 

 

Sehun knows who Kai is, obviously. She’s not blind; she’s seen him on TV, in magazine covers, in ads at the train station when she still took the train. She has heard all sorts of comments regarding his upcoming CD debut, happy ones, ecstatic ones, skeptic ones, neutral ones. He might’ve been no one when Sehun was still a junior high student, swooning over Liz Liza accessories and fashion magazines, but, nowadays, he’s undeniably a Big Deal.

So, when her manager tells her that she’ll be in a photoshoot with him for the day, she can’t help but be a little wide-eyed.

“Kai?” She blinks in surprise. “Like… _that_ Kai?”

“That Kai,” Lu Han’s eyes are on the road, but there’s a smug grin on his lips. “We worked hard to bring the two of you together for this one. How’s that?” He gives her a quick glance through the rear mirror. “Do you like him?”

Sehun has no opinion about him. She merely shrugs. “He’s really popular these days.”

“He is,” Lu Han admits. “Originally, this endorsement was just his, but we got your name in the deal as well. The company wants the two of you to collab tons from now on.”

Sehun snickers silently at the slang. In front of the people they work with, his Korean is very straight-laced, but when it’s just the two of them, his speech turns funny.

“Sounds nice,” she says vaguely, looking out the car’s window. From inside, the outside world seems dark and undefined, thanks to the tinted glass that prevents outsiders from catching a glimpse of her face. She still remembers the day her section director called her to his office – “from now on your manager will pick you up for your schedules” – after months of commotion and sightings from fans and non-fans alike. Since then, the most she has seen of the streets is the occasional open-air photoshoot in Gangnam and this; a poorly defined scenery, as if watched in a television that doesn’t work all that well. No shopping for groceries, no walk to the park…

“… the same age, so I think you’ll like him. Yah, Oh Sehun, are you listening?” Lu Han snatches her out from her reverie with a call. She blinks, brushing her long hair away from her face.

“Sorry,” she offers half-heartedly. Lu Han brushes it off, rolling his eyes. It probably wasn’t important. He was just trying to entertain her.

“Anyway—let’s try to make a good impression,” he says as they approach the studio. “This could be a turning point for your career.”

Sehun hears that one a lot. Deep inside, she feels a little dizzy, wondering where else her career is left to turn to.

 

 

 

Kai is tall, tanned, and has sharp, dark eyes. When he and Sehun greet each other, he’s quiet and polite; during the photoshoot, he’s professional and charismatic. Sehun is fairly impressed at how good he is: quick to follow the photographer’s exigencies, quick to mold his personality to the clothes he’s wearing, to the hair and make-up assigned to him. As a model, he’s spotless.

They’re being photographed for a traditional brand of chocolate, one that Sehun remembers looking at with amazement during her school days, seductive in its sleek packaging, but too expensive for Sehun’s limited allowance. They’re supposed to represent the new flavors coming out that autumn; Kai is the cayenne pepper dark chocolate bar, while Sehun is the white chocolate raspberry truffles. As the staff apply her make-up, Sehun catches sight of her recently-dyed blonde hair with pastel pink highlights in the mirror, and wonders for how long the company has known about this endorsement.

Not that it makes any difference, of course. It’s just a silly thought.

As a representative of the new truffle, Sehun’s character is sweet, tranquil, but with a dash of spice to her. Under the creative director’s commands, she smiles kindly to the camera, the honey brown color lenses making her eyes sparkle under the ring lights. It’s the first time in a while they’ve tied her hair in a bun, giving her more mobility, since she’s free from having to make her hair seem endlessly long; all she has to take care with is her body’s angle.

When Kai has his solo pictures taken, she stays to watch. Lu Han is beside her babbling about whatever it is, and the staff surrounds her like bees, retouching her hair and make-up, so it’s a bit hard to concentrate, but she manages to anyway. Kai is definitely eye-drawing, unconventionally handsome, sharp and precise in his poses. He’s aware of what his best angle is, of what each one of the instructions shouted at him means. Sehun sympathizes with that side of him.

“The two of you should talk a little afterwards,” Lu Han says, indicating Kai with a discreet gesture. “I’m sort of befriending his manager already. Cool guy. Maybe we can have a coffee afterwards, you know, the four of us.”

Sehun hums in agreement, careful not to let the make-up assistant poke her eye out with the eye pencil. Make-up retouched, hair fixed, and the staff crew is gone just like it had come; unannounced, in all but a second. Sehun is let alone with her manager near a table of props, so she can narrow her eyes at him and whisper, “You’re up to something.”

“Hm?” Lu han blinks innocently at her, but he can’t lie. He has never been able to lie to Sehun, not once in three years of working for her. “Why would you say that?”

“You’re being insistent,” she points out, crossing her arms, making use of her taller frame to corner Lu Han a little. “Did the company tell you to make sure I befriend Kai?”

“Huh? Ah, well,” Lu Han pointedly looks away. “Well, it’d definitely be a good thing if you guys were friends, right? I mean, the two of you are so popular right now! And you’re even doing, you know,” he signalizes the set vaguely. The anxiety brought by lying made him forget the Korean word for what they’re doing; that’s another effect Sehun is used to, and she narrows her eyes at him, but sighs and backs away, so to signalize she has dropped the subject. Lu Han relaxes visibly.

Well, it’s true. Kai and herself are both ascending quickly to the top of the showbiz world, possibly at the same speed, even if taking different paths. Associating her image with his could lead some of his fans, which were part of a similar demographic to her own fans, to start supporting her as well. The same could happen with him. From the business point-of-view, it was a win-win situation.

“Actress Oh Sehun,” one of the director’s assistants called, and Sehun used that as an excuse to unceremoniously dump her coat onto Lu Han, glaring at him a bit. But then, on a second thought…

“Treat the three of us to coffee, then,” Sehun asks. “Invite them out in my behalf.”

And she gives him no chance to respond before she turns around and leaves, but she has no doubt that the response would’ve been enthusiastic.

 

 

 

When they do go out for coffee, Sehun gets distracted for long enough for Lu Han and Kai’s manager – a pale, short man named Kim Junmyeon – to go off together to the counter, ‘we can get your orders, wait for us here’, and there she is, left alone with Kai at the table. That was Lu Han’s plan since the beginning, Sehun is completely sure – and worse, she fell for it like a duckling.

Sitting right in front of her, Kai seems to be busy with his phone, or toying with it to avoid talking to Sehun. It’s a bit rude of him, but Sehun understands the feeling, as she had felt compelled to do the same when in similar situations in the past. Perhaps because Kai was a man, his company let him off easily in things like that. Sehun decides not to push it, and looks out of the café’s window, admiring the streets from behind the fogged glass.

“Sorry for that,” it catches Sehun by surprise, and she looks back at Kai, who has unexpectedly put his phone away. He’s sheepishly looking down at the table, as if analyzing the dessert menu. “I was replying to a text. Sorry.”

“Oh!” Sehun widens her eyes in surprise. So he’s apologizing for not talking to her right away! “Don’t worry. Thank you for having me over today,” she makes a small bow.

“Huh?” At that, Kai blinks, clearly confused.

“Kai sshi, you’ve been endorsing this brand for a year already, right?” Sehun points out, smiling. “So, to me, you’re a sunbae figure.”

“Ah—oh,” the male model seems to finally understand, and lowers his eyes again, embarrassed. He’s surprisingly clumsy for someone so sleek when in front of a camera. “It was nothing. Thank you for working with me today. You looked really pretty.”

A beat. Sehun halts completely still, unsure of what to do, trying to fight down the hot flush climbing up her neck. The only people who called her pretty were the photographers, the press, and her fans. She had never had a colleague call her pretty so straight-forwardly. Specially not a male one.

“Uh… thank you? You were very handsome too,” she replies, avoiding his glance, browsing the counter for their managers instead. The two of them are chatting happily with the cashier, who steals star-struck glances at Sehun and Kai once in a while. Sehun sighs.

“Thank you,” Kai replies offhandedly. “They make really good chocolate. I mean, I’m not much of a chocolate person, but I really liked theirs when I tried it. Their Christmas peppermint truffles from last year were really delicious.”

“Huh, I see,” now that her embarrassment is subsided, Sehun can bring herself to look at him in the eye again. “I haven’t tried their chocolate yet. Dieting and all.”

“Oh,” Kai scrunches his nose in distaste. Sehun can’t help but chuckle. “You don’t look like you need dieting though…?”

“That’s what I diet for,” Sehun points out, grinning. Kai concedes, making a face.

“Next time you have a meal off from your diet, you should try it,” he says nonetheless. “I’ll bring you some, they gave me a lot of samples some weeks ago. Which one do you prefer; dark chocolate, milk chocolate or white chocolate?”

“Milk chocolate.” This leads Kai to crosses his arms and nod solemnly.

“Wise choice,” he says in an austere voice, and Sehun ends up laughing louder than she probably should. “Then, I’ll bring you a marzipan bar. Also, their burnt cappuccino candy bar is pretty good! Do you like coffee-flavored things?”

Sehun made a face. “I prefer bubble tea. Coffee stains the enamel, you know.”

“The what…?”

“The tooth enamel. Your teeth,” Sehun explains, pointing to her own – pristine white – teeth. Kai raises an eyebrow in disdain, and shrugs.

“Marzipan bar, then. It’s pretty good,” he emphasizes. “Probably better than the cayenne pepper one.” At that, he scrunches his nose again, and of course, it’s very unprofessional, but Sehun chuckles. “I’ve never tried chocolate with pepper in it. Have you? I wonder if it’s good.”

“It sounds really fancy,” Sehun comments vaguely, shrugging. “But I think raspberry truffles sound even better.”

Kai clicks his tongue angrily, and Sehun laughs when he shoots her a sulking glance. It’s a joke, obviously, and soon enough he’s laughing again. It’s pleasant, to be able to talk to someone in this kind of easy-going atmosphere. Accepting Lu Han’s invitation for coffee had been a good idea, after all.

Speaking of Lu Han, he and Kai’s manager seem to have finally gotten the orders, and are walking back to the table with the drinks in hand, still chatting cheerfully. Lu Han has an espresso – his – and milk tea – Sehun’s, while Junmyeon has two cappuccinos in hands. The subject of their enthusiastic chatter seems to be idols.

“… and the drama she’s in is not bad either!” Sehun could hear Lu Han say, to what Junmyeon answers with, “she’s an all-around star. Even in ten years she won’t have deteriorated”. Sehun turns to Kai and raises her brows in mock surprise.

“Seems like we’re not big enough to make it into our own managers’ talk,” she says, allowing herself the joke, and it’s a good idea, because it makes Kai laugh.

“Traitors. Staff members are all the same,” Kai says, shaking his head as the managers finally arrive at the table.

“Huh? What? What are you saying?” Junmyeon immediately picks up Kai’s comment, and halts the conversation to look at him in surprise. Kai says nothing, but grins slyly to Sehun. “What? What did I do? Did I get the wrong order?”

The models refuse to say a single word, giggling secretively to each other, occasionally shooting Junmyeon an analytic glance. Even after they pay the bill, he’s still asking Kai what he had been talking about at that moment.

 

 

“You seem to have liked Kai, huh?” Lu Han chirps while driving her home, so obviously satisfied that Sehun wants to roll her eyes at him. “It usually takes you some time to loosen up around people, but you were all smiley and chitty-chatty with him today.”

True enough. It has been a while since Sehun had talked to a celebrity her age, and perhaps even longer since she had felt comfortable with someone she didn’t know yet. She doesn’t think of it as something so special, but Lu Han, apparently, does.

“We have a lot in common,” she answers off-handedly, looking through the tinted glass.

The answer seems to intensify Lu Han’s joy, and he chats nonstop all the way to Sehun’s apartment. For now, Sehun doesn’t fear what he might make of her answer, but she knows he won’t put it aside. And she lets herself go with the flow.

 

 

Next time her and Kai meet – this time to record a video commercial, much more tiresome than a simple photoshoot – he keeps his world, and brings Sehun a marzipan milk chocolate bar, wrapped prettily in golden and white.

“For me?” Sehun puts on a coquettish act. “Thank you, sunbaenim. You shouldn’t have.”

Kai rolls his eyes, but smiles shyly. “Remember to take a break from your diet. Endorsing a product you haven’t tried isn’t right.”

“Yes, sunbaenim. Will do that,” Sehun accepts the bar, bowing politely, laughing when Kai clicks his tongue in annoyance at her. She’s sure there are staff member watching them, whispering to each other about it, and at that moment she knows that the marzipan bar has started a rumour.

 

 

 

 

“So you exchanged numbers with him!” Lu Han widens his eyes when Sehun tells him that Kai sent a text saying hi.

“Yeah. We’re friends now,” Sehun comments, too busy texting a reply to pay her manager attention. They’re at Sehun’s apartment, and Lu Han is washing some peaches he bought for her, while Sehun is sitting at the counter, waiting patiently till it’s time for them to head to a magazine shoot.

“Huh,” Lu Han makes a vague sound, finishing his task. Sehun and Kai are engaged in a complex word game, one Kai is particularly bad at, and Sehun is making a crude joke about male models and reduced intelligence when Lu Han materializes next to her, grinning. “Just friends?”

Ah.

So that’s the point, after all.

“For now,” Sehun answers vaguely, expression neutral. It seems to be enough for Lu Han, though, and he steals a peek at her phone screen before slipping away, reciting her schedule for the day.

She should have seen it coming. She really should, and it shames her that she didn’t, that she got too immersed in her comfortable friendship with Kai to remember that she was still in showbiz, and that every word, every step, every decision was strategically planned to help her ascend as a celebrity. And, of course, just friendship wouldn’t be enough for her to enjoy the push of having her image associated to Kai’s. When it comes to a man and a woman, it rarely is.

 

 

 

On Friday, right as Sehun is about to shower and go to bed after an exhaustive day of filming for the her TV drama, her phone rings, vibrating loudly against the kitchen counter. Tired, sleepy, and still a bit in character, Sehun considers not answering it, but the small thought of rebellion doesn’t go through and she picks it up after the fourth ring.

It’s Kai.

“Hello?” She tries not to sound too tired.

“Hi! Hello. It’s me,” it’s the first time they’re talking on the phone; till now, they have only exchanged text messages. It’s a bit awkward. “How are you? Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, I just got home,” Sehun lets herself fall butt-first on the couch, reaching for a fashion magazine she had been reading that morning. On the cover, one of Sehun’s lesser known rivals smiled brightly, round face framed by light brown curls. Sehun envied her smile, as well as how good she looked in her floral dress. They never put Sehun in floral. “And you?”

“I’m on my break right now. It’s almost over, though,” he replies. He must be in his dressing room, or maybe at a fire exit, because Sehun can’t hear anything else but his voice, and sets tend to be quite noisy during breaks. “Uh, listen. Um. When is your day off? I mean, do you even have a day off? Since you’re a rising star and all.”

Sehun laughs, turning the pages of the magazine absent-mindedly. She spots herself in an ad, turns the page without looking twice. “I have Sunday off. How about you? Do _you_ have a day off, Mr. All-Around Star?”

“Ew. Don’t ever call me that again. It sounds nice when hyung says it, but you made it sound gross,” Kai whines childishly, and Sehun laughs again, shaking her head. “Ah, anyway. Hm, since you’re off, do you want to go somewhere? Grab some bubble tea, since you don’t drink coffee and all.”

Oh. Interesting. That conversation is actually much more important than Sehun had initially thought. She glazes over the accessory page, flirting briefly with a cute white beanie, and turns the page again.

“You’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you? Giving me chocolate, taking me out for bubble tea,” she complains in a sweet voice, putting on a cute act. “If I don’t have my waistline, I don’t have anything, you know.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s just one time,” Kai whines again. Sehun is quite sure he’s the first person to call her stupid – to her face, at least – since elementary school. “So, do you want to go? I’ll treat you. And then we can hang out somewhere! Like, maybe the movies?”

Sehun snorts. It’ll be Sunday, the movies will be packed with the kind of people that would recognize both of them from just the tip of their fingers. He obviously didn’t think that through. “Are you asking me out on a date?” She asks straightforwardly, knowing that beating around the bush will bring them no good.

As expected, it’s too straightforward, and it renders Kai silent for a full second. “No!” He answers defensively. “I mean, yes? Technically. Um, yeah, I guess yes. Don’t think anything weird of it!”

“I want to ask you a question.” She hopes she hasn’t read him wrong. If she has, this could be the end of their easy-going relationship. “It might sound a bit mean. Is it okay?”

“… yeah. What is it?” He sounds hesitant. Sehun really hopes she hasn’t read him wrong…

“Did…” maybe she shouldn’t, but… “Sorry if I assumed it wrong, okay?”

“Ask it already,” Kai urges her brashly. “You’re making me nervous for nothing.”

“Aish, calm down,” Sehun shuts the magazine closed, throwing it back onto her coffee table. She backs off from the rebellion, backs off from the want to know. “Is it okay for you? I mean, won’t you get in trouble with your management?”

“It’s just a date! I’m not proposing to you!” Kai objects, and Sehun grins.

“Not yet.”

“Not anytime soon. And by soon I mean in a hundred years.”

She doesn’t need to know. She probably _shouldn’t_ know. It doesn’t matter.

 

 

 

One date turns into two, two into three, three dates turns into good-morning calls and goodnight texts, and it all turns into Lu Han side-eyeing her when her phone chimes for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes right as she’s getting ready for filming.

_From: jonginnie  
21:47_

_i’m not asking for a spoiler_  
if you give me one i’ll never forgive you!!!!! ヾ(`Д´*)ノ  
i’m just asking for a hint: is the culprit a man or a woman? 

Narrowing his eyes, Lu Han gets up from where he’s sitting and slides close to Sehun, right up her personal space, scrutinizing her phone. Sehun doesn’t like it, and would’ve tried to hide it if there was any point in doing it by now.

Lu Han looks around, as if to certify that the staff had left. The only ones remaining were the two hairstylists, who were chatting to each other, too focused on their own conversation to notice them. Deeming it enough, Lu Han turned back to Sehun, squinting even harder, and mouthed – “Who’s ‘jonginnie’?”

Sehun blinks, feigning innocence. “It’s Kai. His real name is Kim Jongin,” she explained briefly, going back to typing a cheeky reply to him.

Lu Han squints impossibly harder. “So you’re on real-name basis with Kai.”

“Yep,” Sehun is torn between giving him the wrong answer and telling him absolutely nothing. At first, Kai—Jongin only watched the drama to seem like a good boyfriend, but after just one episode he has already gotten completely hooked. Sehun sometimes wonders if she should tell him that his favorite character is going to die soon.

“Sehun,” Lu Han calls out in his Serious Business voice. It’s time. Time for the next move. “I’m going to make you a question, and you’re going to answer me sincerely, okay?”

“Sure,” Sehun nods, trying to look slightly alarmed so he wouldn’t think – wouldn’t know – that she has been expecting for that.

“Are you and Kai dating?” His voice sounds so serious that it’s almost comic. But then, that’s probably a big deal, isn’t it? It’s probably a career-changing movement, right? Like everything else Sehun does.

“Yes,” she answers also seriously, putting the phone down for a moment. “We’ve been going out for a while.”

Lu Han gasps as if Sehun had stabbed him. “You brat!” He then explodes in unexpected laughter, hitting Sehun’s shoulder with unnecessary force and making the model wince. “When were you planning to tell me? I’m your manager, you know!”

“I figured out you’d find out about it soon,” Sehun replies a bit sulkily, rubbing the attacked spot on her shoulder as if it hurt much more than it does. “You know more about me than I do myself. I wouldn’t be able to hide it from you even if I tried to.”

“Still! Ugh,” Lu Han throws his hands in the air in frustration. “You know what… forget about it. At least I found out before the tabloids.”

Sehun nods, already pulling her phone up again. Kai—Jongin was waiting for a reply.

 

 

As soon as filming is over, Sehun excuses herself to the fire exit and pulls out her phone to call Jongin. One ring; two rings; three rings, and Sehun frowns to herself. After the fifth ring, he finally picks up.

“Mm’rning,” he mutters, voice gruffy and low. “Sehun ah? Why’re you up so early…?”

Ah, true. It’s probably nearing six in the morning now. She forgot to check the time before calling.

“Sorry for calling. I was filming for the drama,” is how she apologizes. “Do you want to know what scene I filmed today?”

“Yah, is this what you called me for? To spoil me? At this hour?!” Jongin’s voice cracks in outrage, and Sehun laughs. “I’m going back to bed then!!”

“Don’t, aish, I was joking.” The sky is starting to lighten up, signalizing the start of sunrise – and yet, Sehun doesn’t feel the slightest bit tired. Instead, she feels energetic, glad to have finished a particularly straining day of filming. “Are you free today?”

“Mm,” there’s no way to tell whether that’s a yes or a no. Maybe it had been neither. “I have a meeting at six, but till then, nothing. Wanna go out?”

“Can you come over?” Sehun asks without thinking twice, flushing pink when she realizes how weird that sounds. “I mean—”

“To the set?!”

At that, Sehun chuckles quietly. Jongin is too sleepy to process things properly. “To my house,” she clarifies, forcing the warmth off her cheeks. “I want to play games.”

“Right now!?” Jongin is starting to sound increasingly alarmed.

“Yep. I’ll pick you up in half an hour or so.” Then, after a second of thought, “Where do you live?”

 

 

 

Jongin isn’t even surprised when Sehun pulls out Battlefield for them to play.

“You’re all fucked up inside, aren’t you,” he mutters, taking care so Lu Han, who’s at the kitchen preparing snacks, wouldn’t hear him. In response, Sehun simply grins. “I bet you don’t even read fashion magazines. You probably read stuff about cars or sports.”

“Rude! I love fashion magazines,” Sehun objects, pointing at the basket beside the couch, full to the brim with said fashion magazines of all kinds. “This and this,” she points at the game’s opening screen, “are completely unrelated.”

Their skills on gaming are pretty much at the same level, but that doesn’t stop them from criticizing each other’s skills rather fiercely when something goes wrong. Lu Han leaves at nine, telling them to behave, and both of them dismiss him in unison, too focused on shooting the game’s AI to actually pay attention to him. Eventually, however, Sehun’s condition starts deteriorating, sleep finally catching up with her after over thirty hours of wakefulness, and she finds herself unable to concentrate in the game anymore.

“Switch to single-player mode,” she requests, stiffening a yawn.

“Now?” Jongin sounds a bit desperate, since there are about ten enemies trying to kill him.

“I want to sleep,” as a form to force him to do as told, Sehun lets go of the controller, and Jongin immediately takes action, cursing. “Can I borrow your lap?”

“Sure,” Jongin agrees absent-mindedly, fumbling around the menu for the single-player option. When Sehun does lie down on his lap, he jumps in startle, proving that he wasn’t paying attention to her after all. “You’re gonna sleep?” Sehun nods, already closing her eyes. “You invite me over and then you fall asleep?! Yah!”

“You’re annoying,” Sehun whines, sitting up to grab a magazine from her basket. “There, I’m gonna read.” She repositions herself on Jongin’s lap. As a reply, Jongin snorts; then, he steals a glance at Sehun, just as she’s turning the first pages, and smiles.

“It unexpectedly matches you,” he comments, resuming the game.

“Of course it does. I’m a model,” Sehun retorts offhandedly. The accessories for that issue looked so good… the bracelets, specially. “I became a model because I liked fashion magazines, actually.”

Jongin mutters a distracted ‘huh’ in response, attention back to the game. Despite all the gunshots and explosions serving as background music, Sehun finds herself falling asleep very quickly, regardless of how much she tries to concentrate in the magazine.

 _She’s pretty…_ , Sehun drowsily thinks as she admires a tall, elegant model pose in her street-meets-preppy coordinate. Sehun wants her jacket. Actually, Sehun just wants to have a figure like hers, so she can wear that jacket as well as she does. Is that what she wants? With sleep clogging her mind like that, she’s gradually less sure.

Sehun falls asleep on Jongin’s lap, magazine fallen over her face. It’s a wonder that she doesn’t suffocate. She wakes up several hours later, way past lunch time, to find out that Jongin, too, has fallen asleep, controller in hands even though the TV and the console are off. Sehun chuckles silently, considering kissing him awake just for the kicks and giggles, but that’s not how she wants her first kiss with her first boyfriend to be, so she lets him sleep.

Groggily, she gets on her feet, putting the magazine back into the basket with care. For a moment, a very brief moment, she just stays still, knelt near the basket, admiring her collection; CeCi, Nylon, ViVi, Seventeen… Sehun sure looks too mature to be reading Seventeen, or Nicola for that matter, but she has yet to turn twenty, so she doesn’t care. Those magazines are her most prized possession – more than her cosmetics, her clothes, her expensive apartment in Gangnam. Not more than her face, though. Her appearance is her entire life.

Sighing silently, Sehun gets on her feet and goes to the kitchen, craving for the strawberries Lu Han bought for her the other day. It has been ages since her kitchen had housed anything resembling carbohydrates, so she has long settled for snacking on fruits or vegetables instead of chips and popcorn like she did during middle school. The change did wonders to her skin.

Jongin wakes up when Sehun’s halfway through the small strawberries basket. It’s an absolutely hilarious process, and she watches it in its entirety from where she’s sitting at the kitchen counter. At first, he just stirs like a normal person, humming and stretching his limbs. This process lasts almost a whole minute. Then, he literally bolts awake, jumping to his feet as if pulled up by a supernatural force. Sehun almost chokes in startle.

“What time is it?!” He quacks, and Sehun can’t help but to laugh hysterically. “Oh Sehun!! What time is it?! I have a meeting at six!”

“Calm down,” Sehun says amidst laughter, wheezing as she tries to free her airways from the strawberry she choked on. “It’s four in the afternoon. Seriously, calm down.”

Jongin halts still midways his movements, which only makes Sehun more hysterical. “What the hell,” he sighs, finally relaxing and slumping back onto the floor. “I thought I was going to die. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I told you as soon as I could!” Sehun objects, still laughing in bouts. Jongin clicks his tongue, but, when he glances at her, a smile graces his lips. “Come here, eat some too,” she offers, and Jongin lazily complies, stretching once again as he walks over to the counter. The band of his boxers is black, and he has a very thin trail of hair under his bellybutton. It’s manly of him; surprisingly like his model self, rather than his off-screen self.

As they finish off the strawberries together, Sehun brings out the salad Lu Han prepared for them earlier. Sehun eats it without dressing, munching apathetically, but Jongin drowns it in honey mustard sauce.

“That’s a lot of sugar for a bowl of salad,” Sehun jokes out of bitterness, struggling to swallow her lettuce.

“You only live once,” Jongin replies mercilessly, digging in. Sehun feels sorry for his poor manager.

They finish the meal with a cup of green tea and talks about foreign movies, which quickly travels to current idols they like, don’t like, and would like to work with. Then, it somehow transfers to their own careers, and they end up talking about their plans for the future.

“My singing debut is pretty much—no, it has been decided already,” Jongin tells Sehun, toying with his cup a little. “Recording starts next week.”

“Oh?” Sehun raises her eyebrows and grins. “I didn’t know you could sing. Can you?”

Sehun expected him to bite back, but, instead he just laughs nervously. “I’m not a disaster at it, but…” he trails off with a sigh, leaning forward to prop his chin on the table. Sehun figures she accidentally hit a soft spot of his.

“Hey,” she calls out softly, extending a foot below the counter to nudge his leg gently. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. I’m sure you can sing just fine.”

Jongin sighs again, pouting like a child. “My producer keeps telling that I’m great at it, but it only makes me more nervous,” he confesses, fully faceplanting the table. “You know when photographers keep shouting at you that you’re doing everything right, but it only makes you really nervous?”

Sehun frowns. “You get nervous when photographers shout at you?”

“You don’t?” Jongin frowns back. Sehun shrugs in response, and his pout protrudes even more. “It’s distressing. Sometimes I feel like I’m about to run away from the shoot.”

“Aw,” Sehun coos sympathetically, but also a bit jestingly. Jongin catches on the jest, and narrows his eyes at her. “Do you want me to go to the studio with you? So I can hold your hand when the big mean producer shouts at you?”

“Actually,” the disdain vanishes from Jongin’s face. “I was thinking of inviting you to the studio next week. What do you say? It’ll be my first recording session.”

That catches Sehun completely by surprise. She halts midway a sip of her tea, raising her eyebrows in surprise, but her reaction doesn’t erase the expectant, curious, slightly dejected look on Jongin’s face. It certainly makes sense, though, since they’re dating. And it could be a good opportunity for Sehun too…

“Sure,” she consents eventually, and Jongin looks like he just got rid of a particularly heavy backpack. “I’ve never been to a recording studio before. Have you?”

“Once, last week. Had a meeting with the producing team there,” he sounds much chirpier now, drinking half of his still hot tea in one gulp. Sehun smiles tenderly at him, finding his mood switch endearing. “Sehun ah?”

“Hm?” The smile on her lips is only slightly coquettish.

“Thank you,” Jongin mumbles in a soft voice, avoiding her gaze, but smiling shyly to himself. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

He’s sort of cute, after all. He’s also fun to talk with, and good at modeling, and a nice gaming companion, even though he insults all things between heaven and hell when something goes wrong. Sehun likes him. She definitely likes him.

“It’s nothing,” she dismisses it cheekily, prodding at his leg with her toes. “What are lovers for, after all?”

 

If one were to analyze what happened afterwards, they could probably say that the beginning of the end took place when Sehun and Jongin first met. For Sehun, however, meeting and dating Jongin had merely been a prelude to what happened afterwards. The true beginning of the end, according to her, would’ve taken place on that Thursday, when Jongin took her to the recording studio for the very first time.

It’s quite chilly on Thursday. Sehun knows better than to overdress, though, and goes for a simple coordination, discreet, but enough to keep her warm. The coat she wears is quite expensive – a present from the management for her seventeenth birthday – but it’s simple, so she goes for it. It fits her figure perfectly. Sehun sees, in the big mirror, how elegant she looks. How effortlessly chic her outfit looks on her. It’s all math: combine this article with that article, this color with that texture, throw in an expensive item, and voilà. There it is; a national idol.

Jongin’s manager, Joonmyun, picks her up at two in the afternoon. She’s surprised to find that Jongin rides in the passenger seat; Sehun has always instructed to ride in the backseat. Perhaps because she’s a woman… regardless, the ride is quite enjoyable. Joonmyun doesn’t babble continuously like Lu Han; instead, he knows how to conduct a pleasant, impersonal conversation. Sehun, who has been educated in the same art, follows his lead easily. Jongin barely says anything; Sehun suspects he might be napping. 

They arrive at the studio at half past two; it’s the same size as a house, no more than two floors, tinted windows. Somehow, it’s bigger than Sehun expected, and it has a completely different aura too. Sehun, in her expensive coat, couture boots and Prada sunglasses, feels rather intimidated by the place.

“Nervous?” Joonmyun asks Jongin, patting him on the shoulder. Jongin shoots him a rather somber look. “There’s no need to. You’ll do great.”

“Joonmyun sshi is right,” Sehun, reaches for Jongin’s hands, and laces their fingers together. Jongin looks up to meet her glance, and she offers him a reassuring smile. “You’ll do okay. As long as you give your best, it’s fine.”

The words themselves are a bit generic, but the initiative Sehun took seems to cheer Jongin up. With a shy smile, he quickly leans towards Sehun and places a kiss on her cheek. Sehun squeals in surprise.

“Jongin!” She exclaims, and Jongin starts cackling a bit devilishly. She’s quite sure she’s turning redder by the second, but that’s definitely not her fault. “We’re in public, for God’s sake!”

“You looked cute, trying to act all mature,” he retorts, shrugging in nonchalance. Sehun scoffs at him, and he grins. “Wow, you’re really red. Did you not put on make-up today?”

“Of course I did! Ugh,” Sehun lets go of his hand in order to cover her cheeks with both hands. “I regret being nice to you. Can I go home? I want to sleep.”

“Children,” Joonmyun calls out playfully, smiling at them as he leads them through the entrance gate. “Behave. Jongin, stop being mean to Sehun sshi.” Jongin rolls his eyes. Joonmyun fails to see it, though, and rings the doorbell.

It’s not long before a metallic voice emerges from the intercom. “Yes?”

“Kim Joonmyun from Delight. I’m with Kai,” and it’s then when Sehun realizes how more experienced Joonmyun is than Lu Han. There’s not a hint of hesitation in his voice. “We brought one guest with us. May we come in?”

Brief moment of noise coming from the intercom. A pause. “Come in,” the voice commands, and the door opens with a clang.

In the inside, the studio is even more intimidating. It has no windows, so it’s dark and all the lamps are on, which gives Sehun the feeling that she has just leapt through time. Also – perhaps because of the soundproofing, Sehun realizes – the place has a very still, unnatural atmosphere. Almost unconsciously, Sehun leans closer to Jongin as they follow Junmyeon into the house, down a narrow, but thankfully short, corridor. 

The corridor ends in a door. Once they go through it, Sehun finds herself in a much wider, much better illuminated room. Much noisier, too. 

“Okay, stop playing, stop,” The person at the sound table shouts into the microphone, and whoever was inside of the actual studio immediately ceased producing noise. It’s too much for Sehun to process at once, but, once her eyes get used to the ambient, she finally understands that the noise was actually someone playing the guitar.

First, Sehun notices the one at the sound table. It’s a man, dark-haired, dark-skinned, dark-eyed and strictly dark-dressed, with sever silver piercings glistening in his ears and nose. His clothes are all black and skin-tight. He looks like a hired assassin.

“Greetings from space!” The other person shouts while exiting the recording area, attracting all the eyes in the room. “Sorry for this just now. I was getting things geared up.”

The contrast with the man at the sound table is rather violent. This second person is a woman – a very tall one, taller than Sehun, who’s quite tall herself – with very large eyes and a very large smile. Everything about her appearance spells out “manic”: from her short hair tied in pigtails to the yellow basketball top she wears, from her purple-framed glasses to the way she sways back and forth on her feet, unable to stay still.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Joonmyun greets her cordially, unfazed by the invisible electricity she emanates. “So? Is everything ready for our star?”

“Affirmative!” Chanyeol – quite a weird name for a woman, Sehun must say – replies in a loud voice, raising a fist in the air. “Wassup, Kai sshi! Today is the big day! Are you nervous?”

“Uh…” Jongin seems to be in physical pain, face stif. “A little…”

“As expected. Studios are scary,” is what Chanyeol says before turning on the heels of her sneakers to face Sehun. “Oh!” She exclaims, face going blank for a second as she adjusts her glasses. Sehun can practically see her aura shift from excited to curious, and she’s the least sensitive person she knows. “Oh! Oh my God! Oh Sehun? _The_ Oh Sehun?!”

“The Oh Sehun,” it’s Joonmyun who replies. It feels a bit like he’s running to Sehun’s rescue. “She’s a personal friend of Kai’s. We decided to bring her along.”

“I see! So Kai sshi won’t be too nervous, huh,” her already big eyes are even wider now, and she admires Sehun as if she was the strangest, most fascinating thing she has ever seen. Soon enough, she practically assaults Sehun, pulling her hand and shaking it with both her hands. “Nice to meet you, Oh Sehun sshi! I’m Park Chanyeol! I’m going to be the one in charge of today’s recording.”

“Chanyeol is the owner of this studio,” Joonmyun explains briefly, not moving from where he’s standing, as if not daring to come too close to them. “She’s also a musical producer and underground idol on the rise.”

Chanyeol snorts obnoxiously. “ _Underground idol_. You’re really something.” Then, she beams at Sehun, still not letting go of her hand. “I have a funny story to tell you! You know, I always remembered this when I saw you on TV and all, and I was like oh, when I meet her, I’ll definitely tell her this, but I never really thought I’d meet ya’, you know? But since I did I’m gonna tell. You grew up in Seongdong, didn’t you?”

“I… yes,” Sehun answers hesitantly, a bit disarmed by the question. She tries to remember if it’s that what is written in her official profile. 

“So did I! Kinda. I lived there for a while when I was small. Anyway, when we were small, like seven years old or something, there was a music fair near the river. You know? That guy that played the banjo with his teeth was there. Do you remember?” She pauses for the slightest second, waiting for confirmation from Sehun, but Sehun is too stunned by the speed at what words come out from her mouth to properly respond. “Well, I guess not, you were really young. But like, I lived some streets nearer the river, so your mother asked me to take care of you during the fair. So I did! You were already really pretty then. If I knew you would make this big, I’d have asked for an autograph then! Hahahaha,” Chanyeol finally finishes her story, scratching her nape somewhat nervously. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Ah, by the way,” she turns around to point at the hired assassin. “This is Huang Zitao. Call him Tao. Actually, don’t talk to him, he’s not friendly. Also, he’s my sound technician. Tao, say hi.”

“Wassup,” Tao greets in English, barely raising his eyes from the panel he’s working on. 

“So, Kai sshi,” Sehun almost sighs in relief when Chanyeol directs her attention to Kai, turning around so fast that her short pigtails bob around her head. “We should start with the rehearsals, shouldn’t we? The faster we do this, the faster it’s done. Tao, get him started, will you?”

“Roger,” Tao replies somewhat sarcastically, getting up from his seat and walking over to where Jongin is standing. He exchanges some words with Jongin and Joonmyun, and Sehun fears for the integrity of her boyfriend a little. However, nothing happens; the only thing that happens is that Tao takes Jongin to the recording room and closes the door. 

Joonmyun glances at his wristwatch. “Well, I should get going,” he comments with a perfectly neutral smile. “Take care of Kai, will you, Chanyeol?”

“Of course! Leave it to me,” Chanyeol assures energetically, pointing at herself with her thumb. “See ya’ next time. Take me to get some Italian, will you?”

“Sure.” Sehun is pretty sure Joonmyun does mean it. “Till next time.”

And Sehun is left alone with Chanyeol in the studio.

For a moment, none of them moves. The air feels remarkably heavy around Sehun, and she bites her lip. Eventually, she decides that she isn’t supposed to remain standing for the rest of the day, so she takes a seat at the small couch near the door, which is so soft that it almost swallows her whole. 

Meanwhile, Chanyeol seems like she doesn’t quite know what to do. She unclips her pushed back bangs, runs her fingers through them a couple of times, then clip them back into place. Next thing, she swings around on the balls of her feet to take a peek at how Tao and Jongin are doing inside of the recording room. Tao is showing Jongin a sheet of paper, and they’re sharing earbuds. Figuring that they’re doing fine, she looks away, staring at the ceiling instead. Sehun watches everything, every single movement, in silence.

Finally, Chanyeol risks a glance at Sehun, and their eyes meet. She seems quite taken aback. “Oh! Sorry,” is her apology as she makes a face between a smile and a grimace. “I’m a very fidgety person. I’m sorry, that must be super annoying.”

“I don’t mind,” Sehun answers with a polite smile. She crosses her legs, seeking for some comfort in the excessive softness of the cushions under her, and watches Chanyeol take distracted, too-wide steps towards the other end of the couch. 

Silence. 

A rather long moment of it.

“So,” Chanyeol speaks up suddenly, startling Sehun a bit. “Sehun sshi… have you ever thought of debuting as a singer?”

Sehun blinks. “Seems like my company has no plans for it so far,” she answer safely. Chanyeol nods.

“But how about you?” Instead of sitting on the couch like everyone else, Chanyeol sits on the armrest, legs crossed, on a very fragile balance axis. It makes Sehun want to walk towards her and tip her over. “Do you think you’ll debut as a singer some day? It’d be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

Sehun distractedly toys with the hem of her cardigan. “I’m not very good at singing…” she offers somewhat weakly.

“Ah, but nowadays this doesn’t matter! There’s a lot of genres you can try without going for a traditional singing style. Like rap!” Chanyeol’s smile when she says ‘rap’ is extremely toothy and brilliant. In no more than three seconds, however, it melts away. “Ah, but rap doesn’t suit your image that much. Hm, well, sure you could try it! But, for you as you are right now, electronic music feels right. Or maybe low-key ballads. Sounds nice! Your voice is quite husky, I bet it’d sound good. Another idea—”

“Chanyeol,” the door to the recording room is suddenly opened, and Tao and Jongin come out. “We’re done. Start in ten. Also, stop bothering her.”

“I’m not—I’m just _talking_ to her, for God’s sake!” Chanyeol whines, contorting her face in a pout that is strong enough to crook her glasses. In response, Tao silently walks over to where she’s sitting and, with one finger, tips her over. She falls to the floor with an ear-piercing scream and a string of profanities, none of them very lady-like.

“Was she bothering you?” Jongin whispers the question to Sehun as Chanyeol and Tao exchange insults. Sehun shakes her head. “Hm. If you do feel bothered, you can leave, okay? I’m fine now. I feel like I can do it.”

“I’m already here,” Sehun replies, shrugging. “It won’t hurt me to stay till the night. Do you feel more nervous when I’m watching?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin sighs. “But I guess I want you to stay. They’re scary.”

The chuckle Sehun lets out is far louder than she had intended it to be. The two producers put their argument on hold to pay attention to her, full of curiosity. Sehun flushes bright scarlet. “Sorry,” she mutters, and Jongin laughs heartily at her, which earns him a kick on his shin. Laughter immediately morphs into a cry of pain.

“Don’t injure the artist!” Jongin complains. Sehun merely rolls her eyes. 

Despite all the mishaps, the recording session eventually takes off rather smoothly. Jongin is not as bad as Sehun thought he’d be; he’s the kind of singer that would impress others in karaoke. Not genius, but definitely not bad either. 

“Wow, that line sounded great,” Chanyeol mutters to Tao from times to times, receiving next to none attention from the sound technician, who types furiously onto a netbook. “He’s good. Doesn’t he sound good? I bet sexy ballads suit him.”

“We should go for safe pop with him,” Tao retorts, and Chanyeol snorts.

“’Safe pop’ my ass. Listen to him. He looks perfect for some sexy stuff, and rough dance pop.” A reflexive pause. “Damn, I have the perfect song for him. Let’s push this one for promotional single and make him do some house for the actual single.”

“For God’s sake, noona,” Tao whines somewhat childishly. “Don’t do this to me. I thought you had okayed the tracklist already!”

“Yeah, but Tao! Listen to him!” Sehun decides to listen too. “He’s perfect for it!”

“Look—let’s stick to the plan this time,” Tao pleads. “If it sells well, they’ll ask us to produce him again, and then you do your dance stuff. Okay?”

Chanyeol huffs, but concedes. She turns around, catching Sehun’s stare – she hadn’t even noticed she had been staring – and makes a face of distaste. Sehun can’t help but chuckle.

Thorough the recording, the dynamic between them stays the same. Jongin gives his best at singing the song they assigned him, a mid-tempo ballad comparing the end of a relationship to a withering flower; Chanyeol compliments his singing, his voice, the aura he gives off (whatever that mus mean) and insist they try to assign him riskier genres; and Tao tries to keep a hold around the situation, hands quick to type and regulate functions in the sound table. Sehun simply watches it all in silence, only reacting when Chanyeol turns to talk to her, asking her opinions in matters she doesn’t understand at all, making faces at whatever Tao says, or just smiling at her, as if trying to reassure her that things were going well.

Eventually, Sehun’s cellphone buzzes with a warning that Lu Han is heading to the studio. It doesn’t seem to her that she has been there for the whole afternoon, but she has, and now she has to leave for her drama shooting. It’s a bit regretful, the thinks as she fishes her sunglasses from her purse, but work is work. She waits till the current round of recording is over to get on her feet, trying to silently catch Jongin’s attention to tell him she has to go, and ends up catching Chanyeol’s attention instead.

“Um,” Sehun mutters as Chanyeol faces her with large, curious eyes. “I have to go now. Schedule.”

“Oh!” Chanyeol nods, lips forming a perfectly round shape. Tao turns to look at them questioningly. “Hold it, Tao, she’s gonna say bye-bye to Kai sshi.”

With that, Chanyeol springs up, going to the recording’s room’s door and opening it unceremoniously. Jongin seems scared of what she might have to say. “Sehun sshi is about to leave,” she communicates. Blinking, Jongin puts the lyrics sheet on the wooden canvas, and exits the recording room. Chanyeol bounces back to the sound panel, lowering her voice to whisper something to Tao, and Jongin accompanies Sehun to the studio’s door.

“Thank you for coming today,” he tells her, voice slightly hoarse. With her heels and without his shoe lifts, Sehun stands at a good three centimeters taller than him. “I’d have gone crazy if I were alone with those two.”

“Will you be okay from now on?” Sehun chuckles quietly, stealing a glance at Chanyeol and Tao. They’re heatedly discussing something in whispers, occasionally whacking each other’s arms quite violently.

“I think I will,” Jongin shrugs, grinning at the scene. Then, he turns to face Sehun. “Good luck with filming today.”

“Thank you.” She smirks. “Today’s scene is really tense—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Jongin objects, stomping, and Sehun laughs. He pouts, clearly fuming, but still leans forward to give  
her a kiss on the cheek. “Call me later. And don’t give me spoilers. I’m serious.”

“Okay.” She’s aware that the producers saw the kiss. “Do your best here.”

And she leaves.

 

 

In the car, she’s even more distracted than usually. Lu Han complains about it several times.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” He asks rather sulkily. “What happened today? Was it _that_ interesting at the recording studio?”

The beginning of the end.

“Mm,” Sehun hums affirmatively, following the outside scenery with her eyes. Distant, dark, blurry. “A bit.”

 

 

 

On Saturday, barely one hour after Sehun falls asleep, her phone rings, startling her into wakefulness.

She has just come home from filming; her hair is still stiff with mousse, her lashes still sticky with waterproof mascara, her clothes wrinkled between her body and her couch. Groaning, she sits up clumsily, turning her purse upside down and fishing her phone from among the other commodities. It’s from Lu Han.

“What is it,” she croaks as she picks up, not quite rude but not soft and nice either. 

“Heard you got Friday’d.”

Sehun frowns. “Huh?”

“Yeah man, Mr. President is going mad right here. The PR team is all happy-go-lucky though. They’re all kind of fighting. I don’t really know what to do, so I figured out I should at least call you. You’re alright?”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Sehun is faintly worried about the sanity of her manager. Also, her head hurts a little. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Could you try to tell me? I was sleeping.”

“Oh,” Lu Han seems to finally remember Sehun spent the night working. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Sehunnie. I forgot. Okay, so, sit down, I’m going to tell you.”

Sehun, who’s already sitting down, urges him to go on.

Apparently (is how Lu Han puts it, but it’s far more than just apparent), a paparazzo caught Jongin and Sehun on camera. There aren’t many pictures – Jongin and Sehun didn’t exactly stroll together in the streets, not even during nighttime, so the most they had was a blurry, distant picture of them together at a restaurant – but they’re enough to start something. The pictures, along with a draft of a possible article to be published, were sent to the company inside of an envelope that morning, the remitter being a well-known tabloid which, thankfully, had good relations with the current CEO. They were pressuring for a decision from the management – veto it? Allow it? What’s the compensation? Because, after all, if it isn’t money tabloids are after, what is it?

When Lu Han finishes telling the story, he asks Sehun what she thinks about it. To her, the question is far more complicated than it seems. Is she supposed to think anything about it?

“Tell the president I’m sorry for being careless,” is what she answers, voice neutral, expression neutral. Heart neutral. “And that I’m sorry for not telling him about my relationship with Jongin in person.”

“Roger. Will pass that forward,” Lu Han reassures her. “For now, get some rest. You have today off, but Joonmyun told me Jongin wanted to take you to the studio today again. Well, I’m not sure if it’ll go through, but Mr. President okayed it. Also, drama director called and said filming is postponed till next week, and CeCi wants you in five days at all costs.” He makes a brief pause. “That means you’ll have a nice break for the rest of the week. Sounds pretty great, huh? Even though next week will be really busy.”

“Thank you, Lu Han,” she says before he can start reciting her schedule for the next month. “You protected me a lot today. As a manager, you’re the best I could have.”

That’s probably not true. Sehun is a top star; she could get someone more experienced, less effusive, less talkative when with her and less cripplingly shy when with others, instead of having to deal with Lu Han’s fumbling ways. Someone like Joonmyun. And yet, she sort of likes Lu Han’s excess of flaws. He creates a nice balance with Sehun’s excessively quiet, spotless, completely blank self. 

She can practically hear his proud grin. “You’re welcome! You know there’s no one else I’d rather work to. Get some rest, eat lots of fruits, have a nice bubble bath and do one of those long skin treatments you always do when you’re on a break. The green tea one, you know?” Sehun hums in agreement. “Okay, I have to hang up now. Don’t go out on your own!”

“Yes, daddy. Good luck,” she retorts jokingly before hanging up herself. 

And it’s strange, how silent and empty the apartment sounds after she hangs up.

How silent and empty it feels to be left with herself.

It’s not long before she’s back on her phone, texting Jongin. _Take me to the studio today_.

 

 

 

This time, instead of being answered by the intercom, Chanyeol herself answers the door when they ring the doorbell.

“Oppa!” She shouts enthusiastically when she sees Joonmyun. “When are you gonna treat me dinner?”

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Joonmyun smiles at her. “You seem to be energetic as always.”

“Tao and I cranked out some sweet tunes yesterday night. We’re thinking of performing it at the live house next week,” she tells them while letting them in. They cross the corridor with Chanyeol in the lead, bouncing and turning around to talk about it. “The bassline is sick, for real. You have to hear it. When our CD comes out, I’ll give you guys copies. I want to make it into a single, but Tao—Tao, they’re here!”

Tao is lying on the couch at the sound room, playing with his phone, dressed in black leather pants and a quite vandalized black t-shirt. Again, great contrast between that and Chanyeol’s cherry red basketball top and baggy jeans… “Good afternoon,” Tao greets, sitting up straight. “Ah, Sehun sshi, it’s nice to meet you again.”

“Hello,” Sehun greets him with a smile, trying not to step back in fear. 

“Then, I’ll be off. Sorry for not being able to hang out with you again,” Joonmyun lets the slightest hint of tiredness in his voice, and Sehun realizes that he must be having it just as hard as Lu Han. She wonders if Jongin’s management will let him off as easily as hers let her. 

“Bye-bye!” Chanyeol bids him goodbye energetically, and waits till he’s out the door to sigh. “He’s never gonna treat me to dinner, is he.”

Jongin laughs quite loudly at that. Sehun, too, can’t help but chuckle, and Tao grins. “I don’t think so,” Jongin says.

“Bummers. He’s the only rich guy I know. I just want to eat fancy food…” Chanyeol pouts sadly and rather dramatically. “Sehun sshi, is your manager rich?”

“A little bit,” she confesses. “But he’s also a huge loser.”

“I don’t mind! I’m a huge loser too. I mean, do you know anyone who’s a bigger loser than me? I don’t think so!” Chanyeol goes on effusively, hands everywhere, stacking notebooks, putting chairs back into place, installing microphones, turning the sound table on. “Hey, Kai sshi, wanna run some tests? It’s gonna be fun. Do you play the guitar?”

“… not really?” Jongin offers hesitantly. “And, um, just Kai is fine. I’m your junior in the industry after all…”

“Huh?” Chanyeol frowns, putting her hands on her hips. Today, her hair isn’t styled, but her bangs are tied up like a little coconut tree, and it bobs to the sides when she moves. “Me? A senior to you? Please! Compared to you, I have a long way to go. But sure, just Kai then!” She finishes with a brilliant smile, and pats Jongin on the back so violently that Jongin lurches forward. “Let’s run those tests to blow off some steam shall we? Tao, get in position.”

“Roger.” Chanyeol is already pushing Jongin into the studio, telling him what they’re about to do, but talking too fast and using too many technical terms for it to be intelligible instructions. Soon enough, they enter the recording room, leaving Sehun all alone with Tao.

Sehun doesn’t feel very comfortable with it.

Chanyeol’s endless chatter can still be heard through the speakers. Sehun sees them clearly from where she’s standing; Chanyeol has one arm around Jongin’s shoulders, balancing a guitar in her free hand. Whatever she’s talking about, it’s certainly amusing, because Jongin is smiling when he nods, and he lets out a laugh at a certain point. For some reason… for a reason Sehun is not familiar with, watching that scene makes Sehun feel oddly left out. 

“Sehun sshi.” Sehun jumps when she hears a voice call her name. It’s Tao, who seemed to have been watching her for a while already. Sehun shivers. “You don’t need to worry about them.”

“… huh?” Sehun questions faintly, blinking in confusion. “Worry…?”

“About, you know,” Tao signalizes Chanyeol and Jongin with a subtle head movement. In the recording room, Chanyeol is helping Jongin to put the guitar on. “Noona is inoffensive. And she can’t compete against you, she’s lame.”

It takes Sehun a lot of frowning and furious thinking for her to understand. “Oh!” she exclaims as enlightenment hits her. Tao looks slightly sheepish, which makes him look considerably less like a dangerous person. “Oh, you mean—oh.”

“I supposed you two were dating,” he mutters a bit shyly. “Sorry if I read it wrong.”

“No, you’re right,” Sehun offers him a small smile. “But it’s okay. I’m not worried.”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t be,” Tao nods, turning around to watch Chanyeol teach Jongin what to do for the test. “She’s useless around men. She can’t even convince Joonmyun hyung to go out with her.”

Sehun snickers at the memory of Chanyeol pleading Joonmyun to treat her. Joonmyun’s resolve is a truly impressive thing. 

“Okay, we’re all set!” Chanyeol announces, opening the recording room door with a bang. “Kai yah, remember to do as told! Also, do your best to bust the speakers.” Doing a thumbs-up to Jongin, she closes the door and rushes to Tao’s side. “Okay, turn the mic on.”

“Calm down,” Tao sighs, getting the sound system ready. 

“I’m calm,” Chanyeol shrugs, leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs. The top she’s wearing is sleeveless, and it falls so loose on her that her bra shows in the side cuts, stripes of royal blue against the relatively pale skin. “When are you gonna die your hair again? You look boring with dark hair.”

“And you look ridiculous with hair this short,” Tao retorts spitefully. 

“I’m waiting for it to grow!” She objects in outrage. 

“We’re ready to go. Kai sshi, can you hear me?” Tao completely ignores her in favor of speaking to Jongin through the microphone. At that, Jongin makes a thumbs up. “Try it raw at first. You can start playing.”

As the tests start, Chanyeol turns away from Tao, pouting slightly, and moves to the couch. Once again, she ignores the actual cushions in order to sit cross-legged on the armrest. Sehun, who’s standing right beside her, has to struggle against the temptation of tipping her over by “accident”.

“Do you think I look ridiculous with short hair?” She asks Sehun, looking up to her with big, pleading eyes. The resemblance Chanyeol bears to an excitable, slightly cheeky puppy is uncanny. 

“I think it looks fine,” Sehun answers, fighting against a new temptation – the temptation to reach for Chanyeol’s little coconut tree-shaped bangs and pull it all so slightly. “But maybe longer will look better.”

Chanyeol grimaces. “It’s the ears, isn’t it?” She touches one of her particularly large ears in a self-conscious manner. “I used to have super long hair. It gets a bit wavy when I let it grow, it’s not really pretty but at least it hides my ears.”

“Hm.” Sehun tries to picture Chanyeol with long hair, waves of dark brown that’d bounce around her face and shoulder at every moment. “Yeah, longer would definitely look better.”

Chanyeol lets out a fake wail, and Tao tells her to shut up. In response, she stirs her tongue at him, then puts to herself. “Ah, I wish I was as pretty as you, Sehun sshi. And had your hair. Ah!” she shouts, and Tao sighs miserably, telling to Jongin to go on regardless of what Chanyeol was doing. “I forgot to get your autograph last time! I should go get a notepad. Is it okay? Ah, but your photobook will be out soon, right?” Oh, the photobook. With the drama going on, Sehun almost forgot about it. Speaking of which, she doesn’t know when the release day is… “I should buy that first, and then ask you to sign it. I’ll do that! Is it okay? Would you—”

An explosion of sound startles Chanyeol and Sehun out of their conversation, and Chanyeol actually screams. Inside of the recording room, Jongin is laughing his ass off, guitar in hands. Tao is laughing quite profusely too, almost falling off his chair when Chanyeol shoots him a dirty look. Sehun ends up laughing too, mostly because Chanyeol’s face looks hilarious stuck between laughing and exploding in rage.

“The tests are over!” She announces in a hysterical voice, and the other three just laugh even harder. “Tao, get everything ready. I’m gonna get that guitar off him before he kills someone.”

 

 

 

This time, since she has the day off, she stays till the end. She underestimates how long a recording session can become, though, and ends up falling asleep on the couch. Sometimes, the sound of the song Jongin is recording – a song about spending a whole year alone and learning to enjoy your own company – enters Sehun’s dreams, as do Chanyeol’s and Tao’s faces, and Sehun sleeps surprisingly well. 

She dreams about having to run away to a distant country, taking a chest with her, because Lu Han had morphed into a giant octopus monster and wanted to use the chest’s contents to destroy humanity. She arrives there via flying boat, and discovers that the country’s floor is made of jelly, so she has no choice but to float horizontally above the ground and glide in the air to go to places. Chanyeol shows up to help her escape when hitmen start chasing her, and her hair is very, _very_ long there, floating in random directions as if she were underwater. Tao only appears in the background, and doesn’t do much. 

Eventually, Sehun is stirred awake by a warm, soft touch to her hair. She’s only very vaguely of it at first, and enjoys the fingers caressing her scalp tenderly, but the concreteness of the touch leads the dream to dissolve, so there’s no choice for Sehun to wake up. And she does.

When she opens her eyes, she’s shocked to find Chanyeol there, hovering over her, expression unreadable. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” she mutters apologetically, voice incredibly low. Sehun blinks, trying to clear the drowsiness off her mind. The fingers – Chanyeol’s fingers – let go of Sehun’s hair. “I hope I didn’t scare you. And I’m sorry for touching your hair. My mother always tells me to wake up people carefully.”

“Did I sleep for too long?” Sehun asks, not yet getting up. She probably should, though. She notices that Chanyeol has changed clothes; now, instead of the basketball top, she’s wearing a black singlet, one that draws the curve of her waist quite flatteringly. 

“You did sleep for a while,” Chanyeol answers with a cheeky grin, propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “But it’s fine. Recording ended just now anyway. I’d let you sleep for longer, but Tao and I have a gig now, so we gotta go.”

“Oh,” now, Sehun does sit up, running a hand through her hair to put it into place. She looks up to Chanyeol apologetically. “I’m sorry for holding you back.”

“No, it’s… fine,” Chanyel makes a dismissive gesture, and accidentally whacks herself on the nose. She clears her throat awkwardly. “Um, so, oppa’s gonna give Tao and I a ride. Ah, I mean Joonmyun oppa. So they’re waiting outside. I think.” She wrinkles her nose. “I hope they’re still waiting.”

Sehun chuckles quietly, getting on her feet to retrieve her jacket from the small table where she left it. She had gone for long sleeves and turtleneck that day, but it was still too cold to go out without a jacket, so she picked a maroon blazer to overlay with the black of her blouse and tights, complimenting the white of her flowy skirt. Buttoning it is a bit of a challenge, but she doesn’t mind. “Shall we go, then?” She calls with a smile, picking her purse from the couch.

Chanyeol, who was standing right behind her, nods, also smiling. She has her hands in the pockets of her pants, and, in contrast with her usual expansive self, she seems almost… shy. “Before they just leave us here to rot.”

Of course, Joonmyun hasn’t left without them. There isn’t a single trace of impatience in his smile when they show up at the door – though, it does seem to strain a little when Chanyeol tells him to take them all to eat. He drops Tao and Chanyeol first, since it’s the closer location, and Jongin and Sehun look at the live house they’re going to with wide eyes.

“This looks so cool,” Jongin says as he watches Chanyeol talk to the bouncer, seconds before he lets both of them in. Whatever party is going on there, it has already started, and the illumination of the front is deep purple. 

“You think so?” Joonmyun asks with something akin to disbelief. Jongin nods firmly.

“I want to perform in one of those when I debut,” he sounds like a child asking his mother for candy. “Can I?”

“Not this one,” Joonmyun mutters almost inaudibly as he maneuvers the car out of there. “But sure. I think it’s an interesting idea. How’s the recording going?”

“It’s fun,” Jongin says, and starts telling his manager all about what happened that day. They’re, somehow, the opposite of Sehun and Lu Han; Jongin talks a lot, and Joonmyun only listens, making comments here and there.

During the entire ride, Sehun is completely silent. She’s not quite sure what she’s feeling – or rather, she’s afraid of being sure. She’s afraid of calling it something, of even thinking of it as good or bad, but she remembers her own dream. Running away to a distant country, with a terrible secret locked in a chest.

“Joonmyun sshi,” she calls as they near her apartment. “Is it okay if Jongin stays over tonight?”

The question seems to take both men by surprise, and both turn around to look at her, although Joonmyun does it very briefly. “Well,” he starts off. “Jongin doesn’t have schedules till tomorrow’s afternoon…”

“I’m tired,” Jongin complains to Sehun. 

“I want to play videogames,” Sehun complains back.

“I think it’s alright,” Joonmyun shrugs, and glances questioningly at Jongin. “Should I drop you off too, then?”

Jongin groans and moans and whines, but, eventually, he complies. When they arrive at the apartment and Sehun announces she’s going to change into her pajama, he groans some more.

“And I can’t even change into something more comfortable,” is what he says.

“I can lend you some of my clothes,” Sehun suggests mischievously.

At first, he strongly opposes at the idea, but his tiredness affects his backbone rather critically, and he eventually agrees to Sehun’s insistence. First of all, she shoves Jongin into the shower, and leaves a frilly pink night gown on the sink for him to wear. “You look fantastic,” Sehun says amidst laughter when he comes out of the bathroom, and Jongin responds with, “hey, at least it’s comfortable.” Sehun, too showers, and changes into her two-piece pajamas, then drags Jongin to the living room to play Battlefield. 

They have lots of fun. They shout insults at each other when things go wrong in the game, and laugh about TV shows during the snack break. Jongin kisses Sehun on the lips for the first time that night, as part of a joke, and Sehun gets back at him by kissing him during their second round of gaming. Being with Jongin is great. It’s good for her career, she’s sure, but it’s also fun, carefree, relaxing. He eventually falls asleep on the couch, head on Sehun’s lap as she watches a foreign movie on TV, and, when she glances at his peaceful sleeping face, she’s surer than ever that she likes him a lot. 

 

 

And yet,

In her spotless, completely blank surface,

There’s a smudge she can’t seem to erase.

 

It’s subtle, almost invisible, but it’s there.

And it horrifies her.

 

 

 

The release event for Sehun’s photobook happens on same day as the CeCi shoot. It’s hell; she has no time to rest, or even to eat, between the two activities, and the photoshoot involves very high heels that hurt her feet a lot. When the release wraps up at eight, Sehun is exhausted, hungry, in pain and in a rather foul mood.

Strange enough, being back to her apartment gives her no sense of relief. It does give her some, as it does removing her make-up and taking a nice bath, but, for some reason, she feels really emotionally drained. It’s not unbeknownst to her that she doesn’t like her own apartment – it’s simply not a comfortable place, and it’s always too dark, even during summer days – but it upsets her that she can’t properly rest even though she’s home.

Her phone chimes with a new message just as she’s exiting the bathroom, not bothering to cover herself, since she’s alone. It’s from Jongin.

_From: jonginnie  
22:01_

_get dressed!!!!!! hyung finally agreed to take us out☆  
noona + tao are having a live today so lets go!!!! you have half an hour!!!!!_

And Sehun really wants to turn him down. She’s tired, her legs hurting for standing up for too long, and she’s sure she’ll get a headache if she goes to a live that night, but… as she remembers the live house, illuminated in purple, and Chanyeol in her black singlets, she can’t help but wonder…

_To: jonginnie  
22:02_

_Fucker. Tell me about this stuff earlier.  
But sure, come pick me up._

 

For once, Joonmyun has forgone the suit. “I’d stand out too much.” His smile is much fainter than normal, and Sehun supposes he isn’t the least bit happy with what he’s doing.

“For once, Sehunnie’s hair will fit right in,” Jongin jokes, grinning at Sehun. After the pink had faded, it had somehow become even more scandalous, eliminating any possibility of Sehun not attracting attention in the streets. 

“What’s with your outfit?” Sehun throws back, smirking at Jongin. He has a beanie on, as well as huge aviators, and he looks like he’s impersonating a b-boy, with his black t-shirt and baggy dark jeans. 

“Trying to fit in, of course. Just like you.” He has a point. Sehun, too, had gone for the least Sehun-like clothes in her wardrobe, and ended up settling for a white tee and denim shorts, as well as sneakers and the indispensable sunglasses. Sehun concedes.

The live house is called Calysto, and it’s located in Itaewon. Joonmyun looks frighteningly uncomfortable with all that, but he doesn’t complain at all while parking in the crowded street, or when paying for the three of them. The place is full to the brim, its inside is noisy and warm, and Jongin and Sehun grin like children on Christmas.

“This is so cool!” Jongin whispers to Sehun as they deem it safe to take off the sunglasses and take a look around. The place is the complete opposite of fancy; it’s rough, entirely made of concrete, with graffiti all over the walls and loud bounce music playing from enormous speakers. Some people’s attire remind Sehun of Chanyeol, and others’ remind her more of Tao – the amount of men wearing tight clothing is amazing. As she and Jongin snake forward through the crowd, with Joonmyun (presumably) tailing them, they finally get close enough to the stage to see the performer: a tall, scary man, who raps over the electronic beat as if casting a curse.

“They must be up next,” Jongin screams at Sehun’s ear so she can hear him. “Noona said they go up at midnight!”

Sehun sort of wants to ask him when did he start calling Chanyeol ‘noona’, but she decides against it for miscellaneous reasons. Instead, she just enjoys the beat, following the crowd’s movements.

Jongin is right. All it takes is three minutes for the guy to finish that song, say his final greetings to the crowd, and then peace out. Some of the crowd leaves to the back, probably to fetch drinks or to smoke, but a large part of it stays right where it is.

“They must be really popular,” Sehun comments over the background music, which is almost as loud as the live performance. Jongin frowns at her questioningly. “All these people are here to see them.”

“Aah. Yeah!” Jongin nods. “They’ve been performing for years.”

She can’t tell, from his answer, whether he heard her question right or not, so she lets it go. 

When the background music starts fading out, most of the crowd goes back to the stage area, and it gets stuffy really quick. The silence lasts for about one minute and a half; then, the loud thumping of bass. Jongin screams something to Sehun, but she doesn’t hear it at all. Light flickers on the stage.

Then, limelight – from behind the mixing table, Tao stands, smirking at the crowd, fingers pointing to the ceiling. The crowd roars, some shouting Tao’s name, and he responds with a brief salute. Then, he puts his headphones on, the music starts evolving, and the lights are off again.

Sehun is impressed with how violent the music sounds. She can’t put it in words that well, not even to herself, but the croaking bass and shrill brass sound rough, dirty even, like screaming curse words inside of an elementary school classroom. Like giving the middle finger to an important authority. It feels Sehun feel less and less like her everyday self, and more like something she has never, ever been.

Limelight is on again – and this time, it’s on Chanyeol.

“WHAT’S UP, CALYSTO!!” Her voice bursts from the speakers, louder than the beat even, and the crowd goes wild. Even though she’s dressed in less color than she usually is – her singlet is white and sneakers are white, her jeans are dark, her beanie and the armband around her biceps are black – she looks twice more manic and wild than Sehun has ever seen her. It’s like she has been possessed, fire dancing in her eyes, electricity cracking around her joints. “ARE YOU READY TO MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE?!”

And the bass boomed, and she started rapping.

Beside Sehun, Jongin screams Chanyeol name, while Sehun herself just stands there stunned. Chanyeol is like a machine gun, spitting out the verses without even breathing, without _needing_ to breathe, as if the words were coming out from her lips on their own. She talks to the crowd about having a strict job, being forced to smile at times you don’t want to and to duck your head to people you don’t respect, but then being able to rip it all off when nighttime comes and enjoy yourself as you really is. Tao pumps out sounds Sehun didn’t even know that existed from the mixing table and Chanyeol – Chanyeol fucking kills it.

At the end of the first song, the crowd is on fire. Chanyeol’s skin glimmers with sweat, and she’s huffing from the energy she put in her rapping, but her smile shines brighter than the stage lighting.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she greets in a low, jesting voice, and the audience hoots. “Or whatever you are, really,” the audience hoots even louder. “First of all, let me introduce myself. Hailing from Ulsan, I’m your main lady Park Chanyeol.” The shouts of Chanyeol’s name are deafening. Jongin and Sehun, too, scream for her from the top of their lungs. “This one here,” she points at Tao, who raises his hand somewhat lazily. “Came from Qindao, China, just to deliver you some sweet tunes. Our own and only kung-fu panda, Huang Zitao!” The crowd screams again, and Sehun can’t help but notice that the screams for Tao are mostly male.

“I had no idea he’s Chinese!” Jongin confesses in a scream, and Sehun laughs at him, because what the fuck.

“Joining our forces we become?” 

“The Mighty Sweethearts!” The crowd roars in unison.

“Thank you, everyone,” Chanyeol smiles like sunshine. “Well, we don’t have much time for chitchat. After all, no one’s here to hear me talk. Unless it got good beats playing in the back, of course.” The crowd ripples with laughter. “So let’s get on with it. The next track will feature in our upcoming album. If you like it, hey! Maybe you should buy it. Anyway, let’s start.” She glances at Tao for confirmation, and receives. “Please listen. ‘Love Match’.”

 

 

 

 

“That,” Jongin says a bit hysterically as he slips into the car, “ _was so freaking cool_.”

He’s completely electrified from The Mighty Sweethearts’ performance. Joonmyun had to practically drag them out of the place and shove them into the car, because it was way past bedtime for Jongin and he didn’t want to get into trouble with the bigwigs at the agency. Also, he’s clearly exhausted. It’s the first time Sehun sees Joonmyun express so many feelings. 

“They’re pretty good,” Joonmyun comments despite his tiredness. “I was surprised. It was the first time I saw them perform.”

“What!?” Jongin turns to face him with a frown. “You’ve known Chanyeol noona since you were a kid but you never went to her lives?”

Sehun’s ears perk at that. So Joonmyun and Chanyeol were childhood friends? What an unlikely pair…

“Well, I don’t really fit into that kind of ambient well, do I?” He retorts, and Jongin is forced to agree. “But they’re much better than I thought. They could easily make it to major if they branched out from Itaewon, but, knowing Chanyeol, they’ll probably never do that.”

“Why not?” Jongin asks, and Joonmyun sighs.

“It’s a bit hard to explain…” Instead of elaborating, Joonmyun turns to Sehun with a smile. “How was it, Sehun sshi? Did you have fun?”

Did Sehun have fun?

“Lots of it,” she answers with a large smile, cheeks rosy, face sweaty. “It was awesome.”

“Right!? It was amazing!” Jongin turns on his seat to face Sehun. He’s smiling so broadly that it makes him look five years younger – bright and innocent, completely unfit for a model. “Noona was amazing! It changed completely my image of her! Right, Sehun?”

Sehun thinks briefly of Chanyeol. Of her tall frame, her long limbs, her big ears and toothy smile. She thinks of how she greets everyone in a loud, excited voice, and how she’s always jumping from one side to another in the studio, and how her bangs are always pushed up. Then, she thinks back to the Chanyeol she saw on stage, the dirty-mouthed, quick-witted Chanyeol, who rapped about pulling pranks on a nasty ex and conducted the crowd with pure manic energy. The Chanyeol onstage who has her hair in tiny braids, which she toys with when she’s trying to act cute.

“Yes,” Sehun lies with practiced ease, hides that smudge on her surface with skill learnt over the years. “She looked completely different.”

 

 

But it’s like the more she scrubs, the more the dirt spreads.

So now, instead of a white canvas with one small smudge of gray,

She’s streaked all over with it.

 

All over.

And she doesn’t know how long it’ll take until someone finally notices.

 

 

 

“Drama filming every afternoon for the next weeks, also a shoot for your new endorsement on Wednesday morning. Hairtylist appointment in a month… I heard they’re going to dye your hair again,” Lu Han tells Sehun, going through his worn out notepad as she eats some pineapple pieces. “Don’t know what color, though. I hope they make it really rad.”

Sehun almost chokes on the piece of fruit she’s eating. “ _Rad_ ,” she mimics him, laughing. He frowns sadly at her.

“What’s wrong with that word…?” He seems genuinely clueless, and Sehun only laughs harder, shaking her head. In the end, Lu Han ends up smiling as well. “You’ve been in such a good mood these days. I wonder if something good happened…”

Sehun stops laughing.

“Nothing special,” she says casually, shrugging, eating another piece. Lu Han hums as if he didn’t believe her. “I guess it’s because I’ve been with Jongin a lot.”

“Huh,” Lu Han still sounds doubtful about it, and it sets off a silent, gelid feeling of fright in Sehun’s stomach. “It must be that, then,” he says at last, highlighting something in his notepad with his pink marker. Sehun relaxes a little bit. “Too bad you won’t be able to meet him for a while. Well, in the studio, at least, since you have filming in the afternoons.”

She frowns in disappointment, and tells herself, and whoever else can hear her thoughts, that she will miss Jongin.

Jongin, her boyfriend. She’ll miss him. _Him_.

 

 

 

_From: jonginnie  
15:32_

_se~~hun~~ie~~_

_you havent been to the studio AT ALL these days!!!!!!!!_

_what should i do???? i miss you!!! :(((((((_

_come ba~~~~~~ck_

_come right no~~~~~~w_

 

Sehun almost falls over laughing when she gets that text. She’s at the set, on her one-minute break before starting the next scene, and she almost shoves her fist in her mouth to keep her from laughing.

 

_To: jonginnie  
15:35_

_What’s up with you today? lol_  
Anyway, I told you already, my afternoons are full until we wrap this up.  
Your favorite drama is going to end soon~. Do you feel empty already? lol  
Come over again whenever you can♥ 

 

“Actress Oh Sehun!” One of the assistants shouts for her. “Standby!”

With a slightly heavy heart, Sehun lets go of her phone.

Filming wraps up at ten, which makes it horribly tiring, but also very productive. Sehun only remembers to check her phone when she’s waiting outside for Lu Han, and there she finds two responses from Jongin.

 

_From: Jonginnie  
15:44_

_i just miss you~~_

_heol… i want to visit sehunnie soon!! hehe♥♥_

_even if its in the middle of the night~~ come to the studio~~_

_i’ll be waiting!!!!! hehehehehe♥♥♥♥♥_

 

Sehun laughs to herself again, this time much more freely. Jongin can be really cute when he puts his mind on it, huh? Then, onto the next one…

 

_From: jonginnie  
18:56_

_sorry 4 the texts earlier!!! chanyeol noona stole my phone -.-_  
i hope filming went well today!!!!!!!!  
also only two more eps right??? ;;;;;;;; so empty ;;;;;;;;;;;;;; 

 

Sehun freezes.

And her heartbeat shoots up.

 

 

 

A huge drop of filth stains her surface.

Dark, dark grey.

When she gets home that night, she can’t help but to let one, two, three tears fall. She can’t help but to feel that she has reached a dead end. She can’t help but to run to her room, hide under her bed sheets, and just cry and cry and cry because her worst nightmare is becoming reality, and she can’t run from it anymore.

She remembers of the dream she had where she had a chest with a terrible secret inside. She remembers how anxious her dream self was, how sure she was that, if anyone were to find out what was in that chest, she’d be done for. She’d lose her job. She’d lose her entire life.

Sehun is a model, a white canvas over which fashion designers, make-up artists and creative directors pain the message they want to convey. She _has_ to be perfect. She _has_ to be neutral, to cover her own colors with white, to hide her own texture to give people what they want to see. If that carefully constructed white peels off, it’s the end for her. The end.

And she knows exactly the point where it’s become loose already. 

She cries on her bed for hours. She still has to undress, shower, remove her make-up… instead, she hides from the world, recalling memories from her school times. The day she bought her first magazine. The day she received her first love letter. The day the casting agent found her in the mall, browsing a nearby magazine stand for her favorite’s model special photobook. The day she first realized she had a secret, a secret she couldn’t tell anyone. Not even herself.

She tries to fall asleep, but, as soon as she calms down enough to sleep, her phone rings inside of her bag.

She considers letting it ring, but that’s rarely a good idea, specially if it happens to be Lu Han who’s calling. Slowly, she leaves the safety of her bed, slides to the floor and fishes her cellphone from her bag.

It’s Jongin. She takes a deep breath, and answers.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey! Wow, you picked up. I thought you were going to let it ring_ ,” Jongin sounds like he’s in an excellent mood. “ _So, how was filming? Is it over for good?_ ”

“Almost,” she says, aware that she sounds terrible. “One more day, I guess. If everything goes well.”

“ _I see. Wow, it’s gonna end already, huh. Also, you sound really tired, are you okay?_ ” At that, Sehun’s throat clamps shut. Jongin is a good boyfriend. Jongin is a great boyfriend, so why…? “ _Hey, you should come to the studio. We’re recording a new song! Well, it won’t be released in the single, but noona told me she composed it specially for me, so we’re trying it out. Why don’t you come? I bet you’ll like it!_ ”

She barely, very poorly, chokes down a sob. “I… I’m really sorry, Jongin ah. I can’t today. I’m…” it’s a failure. She’s a failure. She can’t keep her voice firm.

“ _… Sehun?_ ” And now Jongin sounds worried. Because of her. Because he cares for her. “ _Sehun, are you okay? You don’t sound okay at all. Are you crying?_ ”

“I’m…” _I’m not_ , is what she wants to say, but she’s crying too hard for her to deny it now. It’s done. It’s the end. “I’m not feeling well tonight. So I can’t go. I’ll go once filming is over, Jongin, I promise you—”

“ _You’re at home, right?_ ” He interrupts her. “ _Stay still. Right there where you’re at. I’m coming over._ ”

“No!” She shouts, her voice cracking. “Please, Jongin, no. Don’t. Not today, please…”

“ _I can’t leave you alone like this, Sehun!_ ” He sounds impatient, worried, desperate. “ _You’re my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake! What am I good for if I let you cry alone at home at a time like this?_ ”

She sobs uncontrollably. _You’re my girlfriend_. He has always genuinely cared for Sehun, always treasured her so much, and yet… “Please, Jongin, I swear I’m fine,” she says weakly. “It’s just—it’s just something that happened at filming today. Don’t worry. I’m fine, I swear,” it’s easy for her to lie, it’s easy for her to hide herself, because that’s her job, and she has been doing it since she was a teenager. “Don’t come today. I need to be alone for a while.” She sniffs. “I’m sorry for making you worry like this.”

Jongin sighs, breath strained. He sounds impatient, and annoyed. “ _Okay_ ,” he concedes begrudgingly, and Sehun sighs in relief. “ _I’m really worried, though. As soon as you can talk, talk to me. Really. Also, don’t do anything stupid._ ”

“I won’t,” she reassures him, sniffing again. “I promise. Do your best in the recordings today.”

“ _Sure thing. Take care._ ” He says, and Sehun hangs up.

For a long while, she just stays there, sitting on the carpeted floor, too tired and empty to move. Eventually, however, exhaustion takes over her, and she slides back onto bed, falling asleep in her good clothes, make-up and tear stains all over her face.

 

 

She’s cracking.

Soon, enough, everyone will see her true colors.

 

And it’ll be the end.

 

 

 

The drama filming finally wraps up on Monday. There are flowers for all the main stars, and a cake for the whole team. Sehun receives a bouquet of white roses, and makes a heartfelt speech thanking everyone for having her even though she had no experience with acting. They all applaud her, and insist for her to take a slice of cake, but all she has is one strawberry, and no more than that. She has lots of fun playing around with her colleagues, and almost regrets it when Lu Han shows up to take her home.

“I was having fun,” she whines as Lu Han drives away from the studio. 

“You have to get some rest too,” Lu Han lectures her, posing as responsible this time around. “But I’m happy you’re all okay today. Yesterday, when I took you home, you were really quiet.” 

Ah, yes. The day before feels like a distant, surreal memory to her now. She has rebuilt herself, painted herself new, and will be damned if she goes down so easily.

“I was really tired yesterday, but today was easier,” she confesses, fishing her phone out of her bag to check for messages, and finding one unread, from Jongin.

 

_From: jonginnie  
16:29_

_ah, well, if you say youre fine, youre fine. but seriously, lets meet up tonight!!!!!_  
today I have the last recording session. you should show up at the studio.  
even tao says he misses you. we~ird. that guy is scary.  
anyway, reply  & lets meet up!!!! 

 

“Lu Han,” she calls, eyes not leaving Jongin’s message. “You know the address to that studio Jongin goes to, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Lu Han is clearly taken aback by the question. “I… guess? I mean, I know where it is. I’m not sure if I know how to get there from here, though…”

“Can you try?” Sehun pretty much pleads. “I want you to drop me off there.”

“I… sure!” he answers, and Sehun smiles in thankfulness, looking out of the window. “I’m… a bit surprised, you know,” he confesses, apparently still confused, and Sehun furrows her eyebrows questioningly. “You usually don’t make demands like this. You’re always quiet, just going along with me.” He chuckles. “I guess Jongin really changed you.”

She thinks of Jongin. Of how he says what he wants, and endures looking ridiculous for it. Of how he demands things from Joonmyun, and from Sehun, and how Sehun, too, feels comfortable to demand things from him. Of how fierce he looks in front of a camera, and how, at those moments, he’s probably scared because of the amount of people screaming at him.

“I guess so,” Sehun mutters, and, this time, she completely means it.

In the end, it’s really Jongin who she likes. Jongin, her boyfriend, who once wore one of her frilly night gowns and played Battlefield with her for the whole night, even though he was dead tired. Jongin, who’s always teasing and bullying her, and who she likes to tease and bully back, too. And to think that Sehun even thought… no, it was impossible. She dismisses it immediately, and laughed at herself. Jongin is the one who she likes. Him, and no one else.

Lu Han drops her at the door of the studio, telling her to call whenever she feels like going home, as he always does. She complies, as she always does, and he leaves. When Sehun rings the doorbell, she’s so happy she could sing.

A long while of silence. Sehun is about to ring again when the intercom makes a sound.

“Hello?”

Sehun’s heart skips a beat.

“Um… hi,” she never thought talking to an intercom would be so hard. How does Joonmyun do it? “It’s Sehun. Can I come in?”

A pause. “Sehun!!” Chanyeol’s voice busts the small speaker. “Sure, come in right now! Let me open it for you.”

The sound dies, and the door opens with a clang.

It’s the first time Sehun crosses that hallway alone, and the way how she can hear her own heels click against the floor intimidate her a little, once again. It’s the first time she notices how cold the place is, since she’s wearing much lighter clothing this time, cotton instead of wool, sheer black nylons instead of tights. And then, before she even gets to the door, it falls open, and Chanyeol’s face appears at the doorway, smiling widely.

“You’re here! Yay!!” She jumps up and down excitedly, glasses crooked on her nose, bangs falling over her eyes. Sehun smiles at her before she can even stop herself. “I can’t believe you actually came! Jongin left just half an hour ago. It’s a pity that you couldn’t catch him!”

“Huh?” Sehun’s smile falls, and she widens her eyes as Chanyeol lets her into the sound room. “Jongin left already?”

“Uh… yeah,” Chanyeol looks surprised that she didn’t know. “He said he had to be home… because of a TV show…”

The drama!! They were airing the second-to-last episode today! Sehun mentally hits herself for not remembering such an important thing about a drama she stars in. “Right. Of course. I completely forgot about that,” she admits, grimacing.

“I see… ah, well, but since you’re already here!” Chanyeol beams at her, but her eyes seem to plead for Sehun to stay. “We could just, like, chill out for a bit, right? Do you have schedules for today?”

“No, I’m free for the rest of the night,” Sehun confesses somewhat shyly. 

“Yay!!” Chanyeol raises her arms in a victorious pose, and her basketball top rides up. “I’m gonna grab you something to drink then! Do you want some tea? Ah, but we don’t have fresh tea, only that boxed ice tea thing that probably has a billion toxic chemicals in it. It’s tasty, though. He have juice too! And, uh, coffee, I guess?”

“I’ll take a glass of tea, thank you,” Sehun accepts with a polite smile, so to make Chanyeol stop rambling. It’s effective, and Chanyeol shuts up, but she’s still smiling.

“Okay! I’m gonna go fetch it, just a second,” she says, dragging some boxes out of the way to reveal a door Sehun had never noticed before. As Chanyeol disappears behind it, Sehun concludes that it must be the door leading to the second floor. And thus, she is left all alone in the studio.

So, okay, Jongin is at home – probably about to bawl his eyes out, because his favorite character is murdered in that episode – therefore, his absence is justified. But where is Tao? The recording room is completely empty, so he couldn’t be there, but he isn’t at the sound room either. Hm. Perhaps he went out…

Chanyeol is back with the tea absurdly fast, to the point that Sehun jumps when she opens the door. She hands over a tall glass of iced green tea to Sehun, while keeping a glass of juice to herself.

“Aah, it’s so nice to have you over. I heard from Jongin you were really, really busy last week,” Chanyeol comments amidst downing her juice in a few seconds. “Ah!!” She exclaims all of sudden, slamming her empty glass onto the table. “Crap!! I completely forgot to buy your photobook!”

Sehun snorts involuntarily, almost inhaling green tea, and coughs a little before saying, “and I thought you were my fan.”

“I am! I swear I am, I’m obstinate to get your autograph,” Chanyeol whines, rummaging for something in the cluttered table top. “I’m just an airhead, you know? There’s nothing going on inside of my skull. I _can’t_ believe I forgot to buy it!” She finally seems to find the object – a cellphone. With quick movements of her fingers, she dials up a number and calls. “I swear that if he doesn’t pick up—Tao!!”

Oh. So she was calling Tao. That meant he really wasn’t at the studio. “Tao, I need a favor. Can you buy Sehun’s photobook for me? Pretty please?” She pleads. “I’ll pay you back when you get here. Also, I’ll buy you ice cream! Yah, Tao, don’t leave me hanging, please!”

She goes on and on and on, trying to bribe her partner with several offers, probably barely letting him speak. From where Sehun sits on the couch, sipping at her green tea leisurely, she watches everything in silence, much like she did on the first day she had been to the studio.

Today, Chanyeol is wearing another one of her basketballs tops; this time, a purple one. However, instead of the usual baggy pants, she’s wearing boxing shorts, and quite small ones. Her legs seem to be infinite, darker than Sehun’s skin, but paler than Chanyeol’s arms. The side cuts of her top are quite low again, but, this time, when Chanyeol props her elbow in a nearby shelf, Sehun doesn’t spot a bra.

“You will? Really?!” Her entire face lights up, and she bounces on her feet as Sehun silently tries not to have a seizure. “Oh my God, yay! I love you! I really love you! I’ll buy you all the food you want! Also, come home already, Sehunnie is here. Didn’t you say you wanted to see her? Yeah. Bye bye~!” And she hangs up, a grin stretching her lips wide. When she turns around to face Sehun, her eyes are glimmering. “He’s gonna buy it for me.”

“Excellent,” Sehun nods solemnly, grinning a smug grin. “As I expected from you. Where is he right now?”

“Shopping for clothes. He’ll probably only come back when people kick him out from the stores,” she rolls her eyes, throwing the cellphone carelessly onto the table and walking towards the couch. She claims her usual seat: on the armrest, legs crossed, on the opposite end of Sehun’s seat. “I hope he’ll come back earlier, though. He misses you a bit, so I think he’ll come back earlier this time.”

“I see,” Sehun nods, eyeing Chanyeol’s top with filthy curiosity. “Um, you really like basketball, right?”

Chanyeol tilts her head to the side, apparently not knowing what Sehun is talking about. Then, comprehension dawns upon her. “Ah! No, not that much, really. All of these were presents from my ex,” she explains, looking down to her own top. “She played basketball, and she liked it so much that she gave me a bunch of these.” Pausing, she wrinkles her nose. “Now that I said it, it’s really weird that I wear the stuff my ex gave me every day. But well, they’re comfy. And she took, like, half of my comics collection when we broke up, so it’s fine, I guess.”

Sehun is trying really hard not to freak out in any way. Breathe in, breathe out. Drink some tea. God, her throat felt dry. “Did you, uh,” she doesn’t quite know what she’s asking, but she doesn’t want the silence. Not right now. “Did you break up in bad terms?”

At that, Chanyeol frowns in concentration. “Not exactly,” she says after some thought, propping her chin on her hands. “I mean, we didn’t fight or anything, but… yeah, it was pretty bad. She was exactly my type,” Chanyeol sighs. “Tall, blonde, pretty. Sort of laconic, but actually really sweet. I thought I was never gonna get over her, but alas,” she opens her arms in a dramatic gesture. “One year later, here I am.”

It’s getting way too hard not to break down. Sehun breathes in. Breathes out. “Break-ups are pretty bad, huh,” she has no idea what to say.

“Don’t think that way! Not all of them are bad. Well, of course, it’s better when they don’t happen,” Chanyeol shrugs. “But, I don’t know, sometimes it’s good that things end. Then you can start something new! You know, like the whole dying flower thing.”

It hits Sehun, at that very moment – all the songs she has heard Jongin sing, all those songs about a great love that ends, about letting someone go, about spending one year by yourself and learning how to enjoy being alone… they were all written by Chanyeol. Based on her own experience.

They were all written for Chanyeol’s ex. Chanyeol’s tall, blonde, female ex.

Sehun finds herself without any further questions to ask, so she does the only thing she can think of at the moment: she gets on her feet, walks over to the other end of the couch, sits down right in front of Chanyeol and, with one finger, tips her over.

“You little—Sehun!!” Chanyeol screams, searching for leverage on Sehun’s shoulder and almost sending both of them to the floor. Sehun’s blouse rides up her stomach when Chanyeol’s fingers pull it up a little, and Sehun can’t stop laughing. “You little devil!! You almost knocked me over, did you know that?! I could’ve seriously hurt myself!”

“I’m so bummed you didn’t fall, though,” Sehun says, and starts laughing again. Chanyeol shouts objections, and, in retaliation, jumps on Sehun, knocking her flat against the couch. “Ouch!! Chanyeol, my back!”

“That’s ‘Chanyeol _unnie_ ’ for you! And it serves you right!!” Now Chanyeol is laughing too, body on top of Sehun’s. “Who are you learning these bad habits from? Tao?! It’s Tao, isn’t it!? I’m gonna ban him from ever being near you, ever again!”

“Get off me! You’re heavy!” Sehun complains, but there are still hints of laughter in her voice. Her heart is racing wildly, threatening to break out from her chest.

“Too bad for you! I’m gonna sleep here tonight.” And, saying that, she lowered her body, lying completely atop of Sehun’s body, head fitting right against the crook of Sehun’s neck. “Mmm, comfy. Sleep well, Sehun.”

“Unnie,” Sehun whines, trying you the honorific that makes filthy, filthy heat pool in the pit of her stomach. Chanyeol pretends not to have heard her, snuggling closer to her neck and breathing in. Before Sehun can control herself, she arches her back all so slightly, and a whimper leaves her throat – a high-pitched, wanton whimper.

 

And the atmosphere stands still.

 

Sehun goes pale with mortification, and would have clamped a hand over her mouth if she didn’t suddenly feel so stiff. Chanyeol stops breathing for a quite long moment; then, she scrambles away from Sehun’s neck, raising herself to kneeling position, gaping.

“I’m—I’m sorry!!” She blushes so red and so fast that it must be some kind of world record. Her eyes are incredibly wide, made even more buggy than usual by that, and both her hands are over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sehun, I didn’t mean to—ah, shit, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I can’t believe—I shouldn’t—I’m really, really, really sorry. Really. Oh God.” She buries her face in her hands, as if wishing her palms would swallow her away from there.

It’s just then that Sehun fully understands what happened.

Chanyeol, on top of her.

Chanyeol, who always rambles when in front of her, and looks a little shy if it’s just the two of them in the room.

Chanyeol, whose type is, allegedly, _tall, blonde, and pretty_ , and who sends her ridiculous texts from Jongin’s phone begging to see her.

Chanyeol, in her tiny boxing shorts, wearing a baggy basketball top with nothing underneath. Who has that ridiculously loud voice and always talks as if she’s high on caffeine, and simply can’t stay still, whether it’s in the studio, toying with the buttons of the sound panel, or onstage, jumping up and down till she can’t breathe anymore.

Chanyeol, who, since the beginning, has stolen all of Sehun’s attention; not a fraction of it, not half of it. All of it. Who represents everything Sehun has locked inside of herself for so long, the curve of her waist, the plumpness of her lips, the feminine charm that has always been Sehun’s weak spot. Chanyeol, who’s the filth corrupting Sehun’s carefully cultivated blankness, who’s destroying Sehun’s perfect façade, who’s everything Sehun wants, but can’t touch, _can’t_ , or it will be the end.

Chanyeol, on top of her, apologizing, cheeks red in shame for supposedly taking advantage of the _supposedly_ straight Oh Sehun.

It’s simply too much for Sehun to take, and, just the time, she sends it all to hell, and does not lie. She does not hide. She does not run away.

Instead, she pries Chanyeol’s hands off her face, pulls her hair roughly, and kisses her.

She kisses her like she has never kissed Jongin, and never will, because, even though she has dated him for so long, she simply doesn’t feel like kissing him. She doesn’t feel like drinking him up, feeling his heat, touching him all over. Doesn’t feel like imprinting her name on his skin, on his flesh, on every centimeter of his soul, because, as much as Sehun likes Jongin, it is _nothing_ compared to what she feels for Chanyeol.

She has been alone with Jongin lots of times, for hours, and the only thing they did was to play videogames, eat, and gossip; and yet, in the first twenty minutes she’s left alone with Chanyeol, her panties are already down, her moans echoing in the soundproof room. 

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” she gasps as Chanyeol kisses her sensitive spot, licks her clean, only to make a mess of her all over again. Sehun feels like she’s about to explode, to die from a heart failure, to combust from what that quick, sly tongue is doing to her. “Fuck, Chanyeol, aah—” she cries out, pulling Chanyeol’s hair, riding her face in desperation. She comes for the first time with a scream, one that rips through her throat as her body shudders violently, joints on fire.

Afterwards, Chanyeol slips her fingers into her, and Sehun has never done this before, but she’s so wet and slick with saliva that the first one slips in almost too easily. Sehun tastes herself in Chanyeol’s mouth, plays with her breasts almost violently, sucks her nipples a bit clumsily, but enthusiastically, and Chanyeol groans in pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to do this _forever_ ,” Chanyeol whispers into Sehun’s ear while pumping two fingers in and out of her, fucking her virgin entrance raw. “Fuck you right here, on this couch. Pull your skirt up, rip your pretty stockings open, and eat you out till you forget everything but my name.”

“Chanyeol, _please_ , please, please,” Sehun begs, voice cracking, not sure of what she wants but just _wanting_. Chanyeol’s words are dirty, sinful, and her voice is so fucking low that it sends goosebumps all over Sehun’s body, her nipples hardening instantly. This is the same Chanyeol who controls the crowd at live houses, who spits out lyrics about being free, being sincere, showing your true colors for the world to see. This is the same Chanyeol who, when she first met Sehun, asked her – but how about you? I know what your company thinks, but what do _you_ want?

This is what Sehun wants. And this is what Sehun can’t have. But for a moment, just for a moment – just for that moment, she wants to be free like Chanyeol. Free _with_ Chanyeol.

And her desire is granted; for that moment, that one hour she spends having sex with Chanyeol, she feels like she can fly. Not just glide in the air – actually fly, higher than the clouds, and higher and higher and higher than that.

 

 

Lu Han doesn’t notice anything wrong with her when he picks her up. He acts just like he always does; talks about anything and everything between heaven and hell, complains when he thinks she isn’t listening, recites her schedule till next year. If he notices the rip in her stockings, or her swollen lips, he doesn’t mention it.

He only notices something is different when Sehun interrupts him and pleads, “Please take me to Jongin’s place.”

Lu Han stumbles over whatever he was saying, falling silent for a second. Then, he blinks. “Weren’t you with him just now?” 

“He wasn’t there,” Sehun says, voice neutral. “I was hanging out with his producers. They’re friends of mine too.”

“Oh,” Lu Han mutters, surprised. “I… I actually don’t know where he lives…”

“Call Joonmyun,” Sehun demands. She has never been this forceful, but, for now, she needs to be. “Please, Lu Han. I need to talk to Jongin.”

Because of the urgency in her voice, Lu Han complies immediately. Just like she had predicted, Lu Han does, indeed, have Joonmyun’s number, and he stutters a lot when trying to speak formally, but, eventually, he gets the address, and reaches there without any major problems. And, for the first time since he started working for Sehun, which was three years ago, he drives in complete silence.

It’s only when they reach the place – a rather low-profile condo in a purely residential area – that Lu Han breaks the silence.

“Sehun,” he calls out, turning around on his seat to face her. “Look. I know my advice always sound lame, but… being a celeb is your full-time job, but you don’t have to work all the time, you know.” He seems not to like his own phrasing, frowning in concentration, then adding, “I mean… you’re too young to let your job kill you. Be chill about it, okay? Life goes on, and all.”

She stays quiet for a moment, staring at her own black shoes, thinking. Then, a small smile graces her lips. “You really need to study Korean,” she says. “Formally.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Lu Han throws his hands up in despair. “Is this how it is? Is it a manager-celeb thing? Is it written in your contract that you have to mistreat me?”

“Don’t be like this,” Sehun chuckles quietly, and leans forward to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Lu Han. You’re always looking after me. I’d be nothing without you.”

“Now, let’s not push it,” Lu Han objects, but he’s clearly pleased. “Now, go meet you lover boy. Call me if you need a ride back home, et cetera, don’t go out on your own. Okay?”

“Okay.” And she’s out.

It’s only as she climbs up the stairs that what she just did start sinking in. At each step she climbs, it weighs her down a bit more, and, when she’s halfway up the fifth flight, the tears start to fall.

She painted herself a mess, on purpose.

She peeled off her safe cover, on purpose.

She betrayed Jongin’s trust, when he did nothing but care for her. When Sehun reaches the final flight of stairs, she realizes that Jongin had been the one to introduce her to Chanyeol, the pain is almost too much for her to bear, and she thinks of running away.

But she can’t. She has to go through with it. For her, it’s the end. She has no hopes to cover her ugliness anymore.

So she reaches his door, and rings his doorbell.

Jongin takes a while to answer, a minute that feel like an hour to Sehun, standing there with her ruined nylons and wrinkled blouse. When he does answer, though, he does it quietly. His eyes are red, swollen, and there are streaks of tears down his cheeks.

When he realizes it’s Sehun at his door, and that she also looks like she has been crying, he sniffs. “How could they do that to her?” he asks, voice shaky.

Sehun immediately bursts in almost hysterical laughter, not stopping when Jongin whacks her on the shoulder, nor when he lets her in and tells her to _stop laughing immediately, you douchebag, you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?_ Sehun simply cannot stop laughing, and then, without pause or a proper transition, she cannot stop crying, sobbing like a child as Jongin hugs her tight.

“I have a feeling we’re not crying because of the same thing,” he says, and Sehun chokes out a laugh, and cries even harder.

She ends up kneeling on Jongin’s carpet in the living room, the TV still on and showing some late-night variety show. Sehun cries for the entirety of the show, and Jongin tries to comfort her the whole time, wordlessly patting her back and letting her soak his lap with her tears.

Eventually, she calms down enough to talk, and she does talk. She tells him where she has been that afternoon, how she went to the studio looking for him. How she ended up alone with Chanyeol. What she and Chanyeol have done, and at this part she can’t even look at him, out of shame and regret, but, when she does, he’s staring at her with eyes as wide as they can be.

She sniffs, not sure of what to say. “I’m sorry,” she offers faintly, lower lip trembling.

He looks away from her, raising his hand to signalize he needs a moment. “You,” he points at Sehun. “And Chanyeol noona,” he points at an imaginary third person on the other side. “Had _sex_ ,” he gesticulates widely, as if trying to physically grasp the context of it. “On the studio’s. Couch,” he draws a rectangle in the air.”

Sehun hits him. “Don’t react so funnily to it,” she complains, sniffing again. “I’m sad. And I feel guilty.”

“No, you wait a bit. The least you can do is to give me a fucking minute,” he throws back angrily, but he doesn’t seem to be particularly angry at her. “You!” He repeats pointing at her again. “And _Chanyeol noona_ —you had—” he interrupts himself, gaping, searching for words. Then, in an ominous whisper, “ _I have sat on that couch_.”

“Well, now you know,” Sehun spites back a bit cruelly. Then, she sighs, letting her head fall to Jongin’s lap. “I’m sorry, Jongin. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry I cheated on you, and I’m sorry it was with a friend of yours – I’m just. I’m sorry,” she bits her lip before she starts crying again. “I’m sorry for everything.”

He blinks at her, expression contemplative. “Ah, true,” he says a bit distractedly. “Technically, you cheated on me.”

She frowns. “You only noticed it now?!”

“But wait a second, Sehun. What does this mean?” Now he’s frowning so hard that it must be painful. “I mean, you had sex with her, and she’s a woman. You date me, and I’m a man. What does all of this mean? Do you like her better than me? Or—just, what is happening?”

That’s the question Sehun dreaded the most when she started confessing. She can’t not answer it; it wouldn’t be fair to Jongin.

 

It’s time to open up her secret chest, and to let her terrible secret out.

 

“I’m a lesbian, Jongin.” It’s the first time she has said it out loud – the first time she has even thought of the word without censoring herself. It feels like she just stabbed herself, and all her lies, all her pretenses are flowing out of her body along with her body. “I’ve never liked boys, not even when I was in school. All my idols were models,” she colors slightly. “And not just because I wanted to be like them.”

Jongin is staring at her in silent awe again. He’s completely frozen, as if in shock, and his eyes perforate through her skull as if asking, _who are you? Do I know you?_ Sehun figures that she deserves that, at least.

“A lesbian,” coming from Jongin’s lips, it hurts even more, specially when said in that tone of disbelief. “A lesbian,” he repeats, turning around to face the TV with his face blank. “All this time, I have been dating a lesbian.”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun whimpers, about to start crying again. She holds it back.

“This is—this is way too much information.” Jongin shuts his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “My favorite drama character of all times and fictional wife is _dead_ ,” he counts one with his free hand. “My manager tells me I’m gonna go blond in a week,” he counts two. “My girlfriend cheats on me,” three. “ _And_ tells me she wasn’t even into men to begin with. And don’t,” he interrupts just as she opens her mouth to apologize. “Don’t apologize again. I’m not even angry, I just need a moment.” A pause. It’s a pretty long one, and Sehun is distractedly picking at the rips in her nylons when he speaks again. “How was it?”

Sehun raises her eyes to face him with a confused frown. “Excuse me?”

“How was the—you know,” he makes a vaguely suggestive hand gesture, trying not to laugh. He fails, and he and Sehun burst in laughter at the same time.

“You wish you knew!” She retorts with some outrage in her voice, punching his leg.

“Not really. Or yes really?” He tries to make a mysterious expression. “Maybe someday I’ll find out.”

“As if. Her type is _tall, blonde, and pretty_ ,” Sehun recites, that scene firmly burnt onto her mind. “But hey, I heard you’re going blond in a week. Maybe then…”

“Shut the fuck up,” he kicks her knee mercilessly, and it hurts, but it also brings some relief to Sehun’s heart.

When the laughter fades out, however, Sehun smiles bittersweetly, and sighs. “I’m completely fucked,” she says, rubbing her temples, feeling her job kill her just like Lu Han said it would. “If anyone else finds out… if anyone ever finds out, I’m completely done for.”

Jongin hums reflexively, nodding. “So that’s why you freaked out this bad,” he says conclusively, and Sehun has half a mind of being offended, but she’s actually more confused than hurt. “Well, I guess you _are_ pretty uptight. You’ve always been. You forced yourself to date me for months.”

“Do you not understand how hard all of this is, or are you just trying to rile me up?” She spits out, slightly annoyed. “Try to imagine my career if some tabloid ever finds out. Can you? Because I can’t.”

“Sehun, stop. For real, stop,” Jongin puts a hand on her shoulder, turning serious for once. “You know they only found out about us because we were set up,” and it’s amazing how easily the truth slips out of his lips, as if it were nothing, as if it didn’t change anything. “And our companies only allowed them to publish that because they wanted to show us off. If they wanted to protect us, no one would ever hear a word about it. You know that, don’t you?”

Sehun knows that. She has always known, from the moment Lu Han told her that _it would be nice_ if her and Jongin became _friends_ , that she was set up with Jongin. It was all a marketing strategy. Something to put their names on the tip of everybody’s tongue – that model Oh Sehun dating that model Kim Jongin? I heard they did an endorsement together! She’s in a drama right now, right? And he’s going to release a CD soon! 

In reality, they had never been dating; they were just friends who joked around together, exchanged funny texts through the day, told each other their innermost secrets. They used those words, boyfriend, girlfriend, lover, dating, just to remind themselves that they couldn’t forget about the façade, that they had their personal life to sell. Without noticing, Sehun had been the only one taking it seriously, forcing the pretense onto herself, doing exactly what Lu Han just told her not to do. Letting it suffocate her. 

“How do you do it, Jongin?” She envies him. Envies how carefree he can be about all of this, envies how he knows how to say the truth, while all she knows is how to tell lies. “How are you always so positive about things? Tell me. Teach me your ways.”

At that, he grins somewhat smugly. He slides from the couch to the floor, and assumes a straight-up, artificially cool position. “Being a model,” he projects a posh intonation onto his voice, and Sehun snickers. “Isn’t about hiding yourself and letting people do shit to your empty body. That’s called being a mannequin. And you, Oh Sehun,” he solemnly puts a hand on her shoulder. “Are not a mannequin. You’re a beautiful young lesbian, full of life and dreams of a brighter future.”

She laughs heartily, and then punches him on the stomach the hardest she can.

 

 

 

Sehun goes back to the studio as soon as she can, which… isn’t very soon at all. She has four days of successive business meetings, then one lengthy hairdresser appointment, photoshoots here and there, promotions for the photobook. Eventually, she does get rid of all schedule activities – even Lu Han is relieved to announce she finally has the day off – and, that day, she goes back to the studio to undo the last tangle in her present life. 

She doesn’t call Jongin, nor Joonmyun, not even Lu Han. Instead, she dresses up, puts on her best perfume, grabs her wallet and takes a cab.

“Good afternoon,” the cab driver greets her casually, glancing at her through the rear mirror as she slides into the backseat. It’s the first time in her life she takes a cab, and she’s extremely nervous, but also excited.

“Could you please take me to this address?” She hands him a piece of paper with the studio’s address written on it. At first, she wasn’t sure whether he’d accept it or not, but he takes the paper, examines it, and wordlessly starts the engine.

It’s a wonderful feeling; she knows she’s disobeying Lu Han, and he’ll fret himself bald if he ever found out, but she feels like she’s living her own life. She feels like she owes nothing to no one, and that she can do the things she wants when she wants, regardless of other people’s opinions and plans for her future. It’s a small act of rebellion that feels like a gust of fresh air. 

And speaking of that… “Sir,” she calls the driver a bit timidly, voice only barely above the trot music playing on the radio. “May I open the window?”

 

 

It takes Sehun almost five minutes to muster enough guts to ring the doorbell. Until then, she lets her hand hover over the button, replaying her own recreations of possible scenarios and studying them. Eventually, Sehun forces herself to actually press the doorbell button, because that was getting ridiculous.

One second, two seconds. “Yes?”

A male voice. Tao. “Hi. It’s me, Sehun. Can I come in?”

“Sehun!” he exclaims, sounding quite pleased to hear her voice. “Sure! Come in.”

The intercom goes off, the door opens with its characteristic noise. Sehun takes a deep breath, counts to three, and walks in.

Thump, thump, thump, go her heels on the wooden floor. She has dressed herself in her favorite pieces of clothing – her only floral dress, her pastel pink mary janes, her short frilled socks and her white cardigan. She looks nothing like the chic couture model Oh Sehun, and, to her surprise, she actually looks fairly cute. Maybe she _can_ pull cute, after all, if she wants to.

She opens the door to the sound room before she can think too much, as if jumping into a freezing pound with her eyes shut closed. And, just like that, it’s done; she’s in. At the sound table, Tao is eating a cup noodles, and he smiles brightly at her. 

“Sehun!” He exclaims, and Sehun is a bit shocked to see him smile to her. So far, their contact has been minimum, and the most they’ve talked was when he told her not to worry about Chanyeol stealing Jongin from her. Well, at least now she knew why… “Long time no see! How have you been? I saw you on the TV the other day.”

“I’ve been fine, thank you,” she answers politely. “I watched your live performance a while ago. You guys are really good!”

“You did? Hehe, thank you,” he smiles sheepishly, scratching his arm shyly. Then, he turns to the microphone. “Noona, Sehun is here! Come out and greet her! Do you want me to go fetch your photobook?”

Dead silence. In fact, from Sehun’s point of view, the recording room is completely empty. 

“Noona! Why are you hiding?” Tao calls again, visibly confused. Sehun doesn’t know what to say.

“Tao,” Sehun tries out the name without honorifics, and he looks up to her with a clear question mark over his head. “I think it’s better to let her be. I have a serious thing to discuss with her, and I guess she needs to get ready.”

The question mark vanishes. “Ooh,” he mutters, realizing he was probably not supposed to tell Sehun that Chanyeol was in there. “Right. Um, I’m gonna go upstairs and watch some TV and you know,” he points at his cup noodles, making vague gestures with his hands. “And yeah. Call me if you need anything?”

“Thank you,” she feels a bit bad for making him leave, but glad that he understands the situation she and Chanyeol are in. He leaves through the same door Sehun noticed the last time she came to the studio, which confirms her suspicion that it leads to the second floor. 

Sehun glances at the recording room, and waits.

One.

Two.

Three.

Slowly, quietly, the door slides open. Sehun’s heart twists a little at the contrast between this and the usual bang – “Greetings from space!” – but now is not the time to think about that. For now, she only waits, holding onto her straw bag with a little more strength than strictly necessary.

Chanyeol’s head appears from behind the door.

Silence.

“…” she turns pink in a matter of seconds. “I… look pretty ridiculous like this, don’t I?”

Sehun smirks. “A little,” she says, and Chanyeol grimaces.

“Sorry. Sorry, it’s just,” she finally comes out completely, closing the door behind her quietly and carefully. “The whole… stuff. I’m not good with it. You know.”

“The ‘stuff’,” Sehun repeats mocking her.

“Yeah, you know. Whatever you have to say to me,” Chanyeol scratches her nape, laughing nervously. “I’m not good with doing this. Like… listening.”

Her whole posture is curved inwards, slumped over defensively, as if she was about to curl up in a ball like an armadillo. Today, her basketball top is vividly blue, and her shorts are made of denim. She looks completely different from the Chanyeol from the other day – confident, flirtatious – but she’s still an endearing sight.

“Jongin broke up with me,” is what Sehun starts off with.

It’s enough to make Chanyeol look at her in the eye.

“Oh,” she says somewhat dumbly, eyes wide. “That’s… um…” it’s visible, how torn she is between being happy that Sehun is single and feeling guilty for being the cause of the break-up. 

“I don’t know if you noticed it,” Sehun goes on. “But we were never actually dating. He called each other ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’, but we were just best friends.” Chanyeol blinks. “We only kissed twice. Close-mouthed.”

“So… so wait, you didn’t…” Chanyeol gesticulates, trying to find a word to fit in her next sentence. In that aspect, she was slightly similar to Jongin. “You didn’t… do… the stuff with him?”

“You mean sex?” The word rolls off her tongue easily, but with a hint of dirt to it. “No, not once. You were my first.”

“Ah. Aah,” Chanyeol’s face turns red, and she hesitates before giving Sehun a slightly shy smile. “So, um. Yay! I guess.”

It makes Sehun laugh, low and slightly jesting. She pauses for a moment, and then she finally says it. “You know, Chanyeol,” is what she says. “You completely ruined me.”

Chanyeol’s smile falls immediately.

“You did. Completely,” Sehun reinforces. “I was just living my life, you know. I had a job I was good at, a posh apartment I decorated myself. Eventually, a boyfriend that really liked me, even if not in a romantic way,” she walks towards Chanyeol in lazy, calculated steps. “And then I met you.”

Nothing comes out from Chanyeol’s parted mouth. She doesn’t seem to even be breathing at all. 

“After I met you, I didn’t want anything else,” and confessing that is like tearing her skin open. Confessing that to Chanyeol is like destroying all of her façade, all of her hard work that took her years of modeling to achieve, and telling her to look. “Modeling became dull. My apartment is insufferable to be in, too dark, too gray. I lost the title of Jongin’s girlfriend, even though our relationship didn’t change.” Look at her, look at who Sehun is behind her spotless, blank surface, _look, Chanyeol, look_.

“All because of you. You completely broke my brain,” Sehun shrugs, looking away from Chanyeol’s eyes to glance at her own shoes. “I’m ruined. I’ll have to learn how to model again, but using my feelings instead of hiding them, because I don’t know how to paint over them anymore. It’ll take a long time, and all my pictures will suck till them. I’ll lose lots of fans.” She looks up again, wanting that sincerity to fall from his lips naturally. Forcing the truth to replace her usual lies. 

“And I don’t mind,” it’s like breathing new air. It comes out all at once. “I like this, actually. I want to debut as a singer, someday, and sing cute sappy stuff about how love is like a marshmallow or whatever. I want you to produce me, because I want to come here every day and watch you and Tao fight over nothing. I want to take you to my stupid apartment, and watch you change it completely, because you just do that to places. It’s like you fill everything you touch with life.” She can barely breathe, her mouth dry. A pause. “I want you to fill me, too. I want you to paint your colors over me.”

 

There. There she is.

 

There she stands, painted in grey – guilt, emptiness, longing.

 

For the longest time, Sehun only saw beauty in white, 

But, just like she has just confessed, Chanyeol ruined that, like she ruined everything else.

 

And she ruined it for better.

 

 

 

It takes a while for Chanyeol to say anything.

When she does, she beams to Sehun, so impossibly happy that Sehun sees stars.

“I think,” is what she says. “That I actually fixed you.”

 

 

 

It’s a good thing that Tao completely keeps away from them for the rest of the day, because they spend a lot of time – much more than Sehun thinks they should have – fucking all over the room.

The top of Sehun’s dress is completely open, and her bra is tossed somewhere over the sound table. She couldn’t care less; all she can think of how Chanyeol is caressing her breasts, running her tongue on her nipples, sucking hickeys all over the soft flesh.

“I feel a bit clueless when I’m with you,” Sehun blurts out accidentally when Chanyeol rolls her nipples between her fingers _just_ the right way. “I’m a bit new to being out, you know, and I still… hnghnI still don’t know much,” she groans, running her fingers through Chanyeol’s short, messy hair.

At those overly sincere words, Chanyeol raises her eyes to meet Sehun’s, and grins cheekily. “No sweat, love. I’ll walk you through it.” A hand over her soaked, ruined panties, and Sehun gasps loudly. “Through every single step of it.”


End file.
